I went this morning to visit my dear friend Hannah. Over the past few months, I have shared several times about Hannah’s resilient spirit. In the midst of great suffering and pain, she encouraged me time and again with her love and faith. This morning, as I approached her home, I received the news that she had just passed away. I heard the cries of mourners and watched as a community gathered to support a family in their loss. Hannah was a wife, mother, grandmother, friend, and teacher to all of what it means to know and love God. Her body had been destroyed by disease but her spirit, even until her death, was full of trust in her God.
In a recent visit, Hannah and I discussed that Jesus was preparing a place for us in Heaven where there would be no more tears, pain or death. I told her that if she reached Heaven first to go and greet our Father for me, and she assured me that she would. Again, as she had done before, she looked at me with compassion and told me not to worry. She said that God was taking care of us.
On behalf of Hannah’s family, I say thank you for the prayers you have prayed. They were heard and answered. I have no doubt she is resting sweetly with our Lord. But for those of us who are left behind, especially for Hannah’s family, there is a great void. Please continue to pray for God’s peace and comfort to overflow.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
I wanted to share with you a story from my weekend....
I must confess that sitting still for long periods of time is not one of my strengths. This is unfortunate because Kenyans (at least in my village) are extremely good at doing just this. In church services, weddings, burials, or gatherings of any kind, it is not unusual for them to last between four and six hours. Coming together, without being in a hurry, is an integral part of this community. We gather to experience life with our neighbors, family, and friends. We laugh, cry, share stories, eat, etc. It is as if to say, we do not have many material resources to give; but for the day, we are able to give of our time and of ourselves to be fully present to one another. Yesterday, I went to one of these gatherings; and unlike many of my previous experiences, I sat and was engaged in the moment--for several hours.
In 2003, a single mother of six passed away from HIV/AIDS in this community. Her name was Selina. She owned no land and had nothing materially to leave her children. At her burial, her three grown children, along with other family members, did not feel they were able to take on the burden of raising the three younger children--Jane, Shadrach and Caroline. After the ceremony ended, one by one, everyone left; leaving three children to not only grieve the loss of their mother but to have no clue what would be the future of their own lives. David Tarus, director of ELI Kenya, was at the burial. He saw this desperate situation and was moved with compassion. He told these wondering children, “let’s go home.” This reality was the beginning of his vision for a children’s home for orphans. Four years later, there are nearly 200 orphans in ELI Children’s Homes and many others within the community that are under our care. Each have a story of loss and hope interwoven together.
Yesterday, the community gathered to officially open the house of Jane, Shadrach and Caroline. Jane completed high school this past year and is employed within the kitchen at the ELI Children’s Home. Shadrach will be entering his senior year of high school. He has a dream to one day be a pilot. Caroline is entering sixth grade at ELI’s Brook of Faith Academy. We gathered to bless these children who are growing up. It was a day to remember God’s faithfulness. He did not forget to hear their cries. His love has enabled us not to forget either. Their simple home represents so much more than mud and sticks. It is evidence of a future and a hope for three children. We practiced true religion, and I believe it moved the heart of God. We cried many tears, but there was also much thanksgiving and joy within our hearts. It was the first time, since the burial of their mother, that Selina’s six children were reunited. What HIV stole from them was so great. It killed their mother, but it also caused them to scatter from one another in fear. When they needed each other the most, they had failed one another. But on this day, I witnessed a deep forgiveness begin.
Throughout the day, the words of Psalm 40 resounded in my heart: “I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined to me and heard my cry. He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay. He set my feet upon a rock and established my steps. He put a new song in my mouth- Praise for our God.”
Evidences that this world is broken are everywhere. I thank God for the five hours I sat and was reminded that there is nothing that the compassion of Christ cannot restore.
I must confess that sitting still for long periods of time is not one of my strengths. This is unfortunate because Kenyans (at least in my village) are extremely good at doing just this. In church services, weddings, burials, or gatherings of any kind, it is not unusual for them to last between four and six hours. Coming together, without being in a hurry, is an integral part of this community. We gather to experience life with our neighbors, family, and friends. We laugh, cry, share stories, eat, etc. It is as if to say, we do not have many material resources to give; but for the day, we are able to give of our time and of ourselves to be fully present to one another. Yesterday, I went to one of these gatherings; and unlike many of my previous experiences, I sat and was engaged in the moment--for several hours.
In 2003, a single mother of six passed away from HIV/AIDS in this community. Her name was Selina. She owned no land and had nothing materially to leave her children. At her burial, her three grown children, along with other family members, did not feel they were able to take on the burden of raising the three younger children--Jane, Shadrach and Caroline. After the ceremony ended, one by one, everyone left; leaving three children to not only grieve the loss of their mother but to have no clue what would be the future of their own lives. David Tarus, director of ELI Kenya, was at the burial. He saw this desperate situation and was moved with compassion. He told these wondering children, “let’s go home.” This reality was the beginning of his vision for a children’s home for orphans. Four years later, there are nearly 200 orphans in ELI Children’s Homes and many others within the community that are under our care. Each have a story of loss and hope interwoven together.
Yesterday, the community gathered to officially open the house of Jane, Shadrach and Caroline. Jane completed high school this past year and is employed within the kitchen at the ELI Children’s Home. Shadrach will be entering his senior year of high school. He has a dream to one day be a pilot. Caroline is entering sixth grade at ELI’s Brook of Faith Academy. We gathered to bless these children who are growing up. It was a day to remember God’s faithfulness. He did not forget to hear their cries. His love has enabled us not to forget either. Their simple home represents so much more than mud and sticks. It is evidence of a future and a hope for three children. We practiced true religion, and I believe it moved the heart of God. We cried many tears, but there was also much thanksgiving and joy within our hearts. It was the first time, since the burial of their mother, that Selina’s six children were reunited. What HIV stole from them was so great. It killed their mother, but it also caused them to scatter from one another in fear. When they needed each other the most, they had failed one another. But on this day, I witnessed a deep forgiveness begin.
Throughout the day, the words of Psalm 40 resounded in my heart: “I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined to me and heard my cry. He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay. He set my feet upon a rock and established my steps. He put a new song in my mouth- Praise for our God.”
Evidences that this world is broken are everywhere. I thank God for the five hours I sat and was reminded that there is nothing that the compassion of Christ cannot restore.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
The Gap
It wasn't even 7 am yet, but the line of people outside of my house reminded me of the gap between what is and what should be. One man introduced himself and explained he had walked several miles to meet with me. He shared of struggles in his family and his challenge to pay his children's school fees. Another told of a sick person needing treatment who was unable to afford it. The third explained that he needed advice in how to deal with some challenges. As I walked away, I began to pray. Rather than allow the burdens to overwhelm me, I asked God for His perspective. I didn't have the answers or solutions to these problems, but I knew that God was present. So, I asked Him to show me how to live this day, to love with a love that is greater than myself.
Later this morning, I arrived to the training center and began to tabulate the results from our Tumaini na Afya (Hope & Health) AIDS Awareness Campaign that was held on Saturday. It was an amazing day. A couple thousand people attended and just over 800 people learned their HIV status. Although a majority of the people who tested were men, 95% of those who tested positive were young women. This revealing, once again, not that women are more promiscuous than men but simply more vulnerable. Yesterday I visited a young 20 year old widow of two weeks named Emily whose story represents this so clearly. She married her husband only a year ago. He had worked as a truck driver along the trans-African highway. His first wife had died in 2002 leaving behind two children. Emily learned that she was HIV+ several months ago while she was pregnant. Unfortunately, she did not receive treatment and breastfed her baby. As I sat and listened to her share her story, I was deeply saddened. HIV has stolen and destroyed the lives of too many in this young family. Once more, I didn't know how to comfort this grieving lady; but I prayed to the only One who is able to restore hope to the hopeless.
Things are not as they were meant to be. I know this quite well. But I also know that God is with us. These lyrics, written by Tommy Walker, that say "Sweet Jesus come. Sweet Jesus come. Sweet Jesus come to me. Come set my spirit free so I can worship thee. I want to sense your power and love at work in me. Sweet Jesus come" have so often been my prayer. Today Jesus did come and present himself in the form of a hungry man. He came as a father who doesn't know how to provide school fees for his children. He was in the widow who feels alone and in her baby who is struggling to live. He was in the crippled man sitting outside my window repairing our children's shoes. Jesus has come right to where He said He would be. With an open invitation for us to draw near to Him, we enter the gap between what is and what should be.
Later this morning, I arrived to the training center and began to tabulate the results from our Tumaini na Afya (Hope & Health) AIDS Awareness Campaign that was held on Saturday. It was an amazing day. A couple thousand people attended and just over 800 people learned their HIV status. Although a majority of the people who tested were men, 95% of those who tested positive were young women. This revealing, once again, not that women are more promiscuous than men but simply more vulnerable. Yesterday I visited a young 20 year old widow of two weeks named Emily whose story represents this so clearly. She married her husband only a year ago. He had worked as a truck driver along the trans-African highway. His first wife had died in 2002 leaving behind two children. Emily learned that she was HIV+ several months ago while she was pregnant. Unfortunately, she did not receive treatment and breastfed her baby. As I sat and listened to her share her story, I was deeply saddened. HIV has stolen and destroyed the lives of too many in this young family. Once more, I didn't know how to comfort this grieving lady; but I prayed to the only One who is able to restore hope to the hopeless.
Things are not as they were meant to be. I know this quite well. But I also know that God is with us. These lyrics, written by Tommy Walker, that say "Sweet Jesus come. Sweet Jesus come. Sweet Jesus come to me. Come set my spirit free so I can worship thee. I want to sense your power and love at work in me. Sweet Jesus come" have so often been my prayer. Today Jesus did come and present himself in the form of a hungry man. He came as a father who doesn't know how to provide school fees for his children. He was in the widow who feels alone and in her baby who is struggling to live. He was in the crippled man sitting outside my window repairing our children's shoes. Jesus has come right to where He said He would be. With an open invitation for us to draw near to Him, we enter the gap between what is and what should be.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
My Friend
I went this afternoon to sit with my friend named Hannah. She is 51 years old. She is married and has nine children. By the standards of the world, Hannah is poor. Over the past four years, a tumor has overtaken her face and parts of her brain leaving her body wasted and her face greatly disfigured. Her situation is full of loss and intense suffering. But this is not the whole story.
As I walked into her mud hut, I heard her voice saying: “Mtoto wangu, karibu sana.” meaning “My child, welcome so much”. I sat at Hannah’s bedside and saw how, even in the past five days, the tumor had grown noticeably larger around her eye and further into her mouth. Her speech was slurred but her spirit was full of life. She talked about how God continues to take care of her and then she waved her arms as she sang “Mungu yu mwema”- God is so good. She praised her daughters for the ongoing care they are providing to her as she is bedridden and dependent upon them 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It is hard for me to imagine talking about God’s goodness when faced with such pain; and yet her words are not a cliché, they are her hope.
I went to encourage Hannah; but I also went because she has something I long for. Hannah is beautiful. If you saw a picture of her, it would be impossible to see it; but there is a beauty that transcends and overshadows her appearance. Hannah knows the love of God, and it has cast out her fears. She is living in freedom and nothing in this world can take it away- not even death.
More than once, I have been humbled by the sweetness of God’s presence that rests upon this home. It causes me to be still and reminds me that God has not changed. Although questions remain unanswered, His faithfulness and love are not lessened by these struggles. In multiple languages, Hannah’s family and I have recited Psalm 23 together bringing life to these often quoted verses:
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
This afternoon, God used Hannah to speak His word to me. As I shared within my last update, I have recently been discouraged and overwhelmed by the challenges that surround. The weight feels so heavy; but this dear mama, on her deathbed, looked into my eyes and saw the burdens that I have been carrying. She said, “Juli, uko na wasi wasi. Usiwe na wasi wasi. Mungu anakulinda;” which means “Juli, you have worries- don’t worry. God is taking care of you”. As she spoke truth into my life, I grabbed her feeble hand, leaned forward and listened.
I pray that Hannah’s testimony will be an encouragement to you this day. I ask that as Hannah and her family come to your mind, please pray on their behalf.
As I walked into her mud hut, I heard her voice saying: “Mtoto wangu, karibu sana.” meaning “My child, welcome so much”. I sat at Hannah’s bedside and saw how, even in the past five days, the tumor had grown noticeably larger around her eye and further into her mouth. Her speech was slurred but her spirit was full of life. She talked about how God continues to take care of her and then she waved her arms as she sang “Mungu yu mwema”- God is so good. She praised her daughters for the ongoing care they are providing to her as she is bedridden and dependent upon them 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It is hard for me to imagine talking about God’s goodness when faced with such pain; and yet her words are not a cliché, they are her hope.
I went to encourage Hannah; but I also went because she has something I long for. Hannah is beautiful. If you saw a picture of her, it would be impossible to see it; but there is a beauty that transcends and overshadows her appearance. Hannah knows the love of God, and it has cast out her fears. She is living in freedom and nothing in this world can take it away- not even death.
More than once, I have been humbled by the sweetness of God’s presence that rests upon this home. It causes me to be still and reminds me that God has not changed. Although questions remain unanswered, His faithfulness and love are not lessened by these struggles. In multiple languages, Hannah’s family and I have recited Psalm 23 together bringing life to these often quoted verses:
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
This afternoon, God used Hannah to speak His word to me. As I shared within my last update, I have recently been discouraged and overwhelmed by the challenges that surround. The weight feels so heavy; but this dear mama, on her deathbed, looked into my eyes and saw the burdens that I have been carrying. She said, “Juli, uko na wasi wasi. Usiwe na wasi wasi. Mungu anakulinda;” which means “Juli, you have worries- don’t worry. God is taking care of you”. As she spoke truth into my life, I grabbed her feeble hand, leaned forward and listened.
I pray that Hannah’s testimony will be an encouragement to you this day. I ask that as Hannah and her family come to your mind, please pray on their behalf.
Friday, October 05, 2007
A Few Stories
In Kipkaren, we so often say that we wake up with a plan for the day, but we must leave space for God to interrupt our plans. Today was no exception. Let me share my story...
This afternoon, a nurse called from our local clinic saying that there was a sick lady who needed to be rushed to a hospital about an hour's drive away. Allison, my dearest friend, and I jumped into the car and picked up a 23 year old lady named Karen who was 7 months pregnant and having serious complications. Just having finished rainy season, our dirt road is, to say the least, not ideal for a lady in labour. After driving a few kilometers, Karen said that she felt to push. Allison looked at me and asked me what we should do. I replied that we should go to the nearest home of one of our traditional birth attendants named Mama Presca (TBAs are midwives from our community who ELI partners with to train them in safe delivery practices). I hoped to at least get a birthing kit with supplies to assist in delivering this baby; unfortunately, Mama Presca was not at home. I looked behind me to see Karen squatting behind a bush, on the side of the road, delivering a little girl. When I reached her, the baby was on the ground. I was shouting to Allison, "I need gloves. Allison, I need gloves". She ran to the car to get my bag, and then I put on my gloves and picked up this tiny baby as she began to cry. Then we needed something to cut the umbilical cord. So once again, Allison ran with all of her might (you should know that Allison hates to run) down the road to a local shop to try and find a sterile razor blade. Though she did not have any money with her, the local shop owner had sympathy on her as he realized she was in an emergency and out of breath. Upon reaching me, she saw that I had been innovative and used a glove to try and tie the cord. After a lot of effort, especially on Allison's part, we finished the delivery process. I will spare you many other details. We did manage to gather a small crowd in the meantime. Surely, and I mean this sincerely, God was with us. After about 10 minutes, we climbed back in the car and went the rest of the way to the hospital. The mom and baby have been admitted to the hospital but are stable. Our beautiful little girl weighs 1lb 8oz. Please be praying for her health and growth and peace for her mother.
Before all of this drama, I had intended to send this update on Hannah. I visited with Hannah’s family earlier this week and once again was blessed by her grace and invited by her warmth to sit beside her. As I did, I experienced the truth that God dwells in the praises of His people. In spite of the tumor that continues to grow in her face, Hannah’s hope remains in God. She expressed her gratitude to all who are praying for her and for her family. She declared that God continues to take care of her. I listened to her confidence as she sang the words Mungu anaweza, God is able. And I felt God’s peace, which surpasses all understanding, ruling Hannah’s heart and mind. Hannah’s husband, in the midst of the challenges, has also put his trust in God. He visited with us outside and sang this hymn about the love of God:
Hark, my soul! It is the Lord;
‘Tis thy Savior, hear his word.
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee.
Says, poor sinner, lovest thou Me?
I delivered thee when bound,
And when bleeding, healed thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turned thy darkness into light.
Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above;
Deeper than the depths beneath.
Free and faithful, strong as death.
Thou shalt see My glory soon,
When the work of grace is done.
Partner of my throne shalt be.
Say, poor sinner, lovest thou Me?
Lord! It is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint.
Yet I love thee, and adore;
Oh, for grace to love Thee more.
I do desire to grow in this love that knows no limits. For now, I only know in part; but I praise God for the privilege to learn from this journey I am walking with Hannah. Her life demonstrates the promise that nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.
This afternoon, a nurse called from our local clinic saying that there was a sick lady who needed to be rushed to a hospital about an hour's drive away. Allison, my dearest friend, and I jumped into the car and picked up a 23 year old lady named Karen who was 7 months pregnant and having serious complications. Just having finished rainy season, our dirt road is, to say the least, not ideal for a lady in labour. After driving a few kilometers, Karen said that she felt to push. Allison looked at me and asked me what we should do. I replied that we should go to the nearest home of one of our traditional birth attendants named Mama Presca (TBAs are midwives from our community who ELI partners with to train them in safe delivery practices). I hoped to at least get a birthing kit with supplies to assist in delivering this baby; unfortunately, Mama Presca was not at home. I looked behind me to see Karen squatting behind a bush, on the side of the road, delivering a little girl. When I reached her, the baby was on the ground. I was shouting to Allison, "I need gloves. Allison, I need gloves". She ran to the car to get my bag, and then I put on my gloves and picked up this tiny baby as she began to cry. Then we needed something to cut the umbilical cord. So once again, Allison ran with all of her might (you should know that Allison hates to run) down the road to a local shop to try and find a sterile razor blade. Though she did not have any money with her, the local shop owner had sympathy on her as he realized she was in an emergency and out of breath. Upon reaching me, she saw that I had been innovative and used a glove to try and tie the cord. After a lot of effort, especially on Allison's part, we finished the delivery process. I will spare you many other details. We did manage to gather a small crowd in the meantime. Surely, and I mean this sincerely, God was with us. After about 10 minutes, we climbed back in the car and went the rest of the way to the hospital. The mom and baby have been admitted to the hospital but are stable. Our beautiful little girl weighs 1lb 8oz. Please be praying for her health and growth and peace for her mother.
Before all of this drama, I had intended to send this update on Hannah. I visited with Hannah’s family earlier this week and once again was blessed by her grace and invited by her warmth to sit beside her. As I did, I experienced the truth that God dwells in the praises of His people. In spite of the tumor that continues to grow in her face, Hannah’s hope remains in God. She expressed her gratitude to all who are praying for her and for her family. She declared that God continues to take care of her. I listened to her confidence as she sang the words Mungu anaweza, God is able. And I felt God’s peace, which surpasses all understanding, ruling Hannah’s heart and mind. Hannah’s husband, in the midst of the challenges, has also put his trust in God. He visited with us outside and sang this hymn about the love of God:
Hark, my soul! It is the Lord;
‘Tis thy Savior, hear his word.
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee.
Says, poor sinner, lovest thou Me?
I delivered thee when bound,
And when bleeding, healed thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turned thy darkness into light.
Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above;
Deeper than the depths beneath.
Free and faithful, strong as death.
Thou shalt see My glory soon,
When the work of grace is done.
Partner of my throne shalt be.
Say, poor sinner, lovest thou Me?
Lord! It is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint.
Yet I love thee, and adore;
Oh, for grace to love Thee more.
I do desire to grow in this love that knows no limits. For now, I only know in part; but I praise God for the privilege to learn from this journey I am walking with Hannah. Her life demonstrates the promise that nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Daudi
Like it was yesterday, I remember the night Daudi was born. It was raining, and I had been called to assist a young mama named Eunice to deliver her baby. I was a young nursing student being initiated into the realities that so many women
and children face throughout the world. As I stooped down to enter into the mud hut, I was struck by the vision of Eunice laboring on the floor with her other three children sleeping in a row beside her.There was nothing sterile about the environment. A single candle lit the room. Chickens were resting in the corner. Several hours went by as Eunice silently endured the labor. There was no medication to ease her pain. There was no nearby clinic to rush to in case of any complications. In so many respects, Eunice was on her own.
With much anticipation, we waited for Daudi’s arrival, but when I caught his little body, he was limp and lifeless. As I suctioned his mouth, I heard someone behind me ask if he was dead and another praying, “Jesus, breathe life.” After what felt like eternity, Daudi gasped for air and began to cry. I do not understand or know how to
explain all that happened thatnight in that little hut, but I believe that Jesus did breathe life.
Seven years have flown by since that night. Kipkaren has become my home, and Daudi is my neighbor. I have watched this little boy grow. He is now in the first grade and is a bit mischievous. He has a bright smile and is full of life. He has a sweet little sister named Jepmutai that I delivered two years ago. The other day I was walking and saw Daudi tending his family’s cows, and I wondered about his life, the challenges he faces, the ways he views his world. My experience in and with Africa has been the span of his life. And I considered what has developed and what has remained constant within this village over the past seven years. Unlike the night he was born, there is now a clinic that provides quality preventative and curative healthcare to this community. The rates of malaria infection have decreased. Several hundred traditional birth attendants have been trained in safe delivery methods for the mother and child. People have a greater awareness of HIV, and testing and treatment is accessible. Free public education has been made available throughout Kenya; and although overcrowding is a serious issue,
children like Daudi now have the opportunity to attend school. Trainings have been offered to Daudi’s family in the areas of sustainable agriculture. Eunice, Daudi’s mom, is a member of our adult education class and is learning to read and write. And his father, Franco, was part of the construction team that built the children’s home and Brook of Faith Academy. Sunday school has created an environment for Daudi, and so many other children, to learn about the love of Christ. Unfortunately, challenges still remain as poverty and disease continue in this land. For most of Daudi’s neighbors, living hand-to mouth eliminates the choices we as Westerners value. Basics such as drinking clean and safe water or eating more than one meal a day are a luxury. Lack of employment opportunities continues to leave many idle and feeling hopeless, which, in turn, leads to engaging in risky and destructive behavior. And the cycle continues….
Amidst victories and ongoing obstacles, I thank God for the opportunity to be here. In a sense, watching Daudi grow has allowed me to see the faithfulness of God. His life is a reminder to me that God is able even in hopeless situations, and that I exist for something greater than myself. The ways I choose to love or not to love matter in the Kingdom. And because of this, I want to grow in compassion. Thank you for your role in
God’s work in this community. I pray that mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to you.
and children face throughout the world. As I stooped down to enter into the mud hut, I was struck by the vision of Eunice laboring on the floor with her other three children sleeping in a row beside her.There was nothing sterile about the environment. A single candle lit the room. Chickens were resting in the corner. Several hours went by as Eunice silently endured the labor. There was no medication to ease her pain. There was no nearby clinic to rush to in case of any complications. In so many respects, Eunice was on her own.
With much anticipation, we waited for Daudi’s arrival, but when I caught his little body, he was limp and lifeless. As I suctioned his mouth, I heard someone behind me ask if he was dead and another praying, “Jesus, breathe life.” After what felt like eternity, Daudi gasped for air and began to cry. I do not understand or know how to
explain all that happened thatnight in that little hut, but I believe that Jesus did breathe life.
Seven years have flown by since that night. Kipkaren has become my home, and Daudi is my neighbor. I have watched this little boy grow. He is now in the first grade and is a bit mischievous. He has a bright smile and is full of life. He has a sweet little sister named Jepmutai that I delivered two years ago. The other day I was walking and saw Daudi tending his family’s cows, and I wondered about his life, the challenges he faces, the ways he views his world. My experience in and with Africa has been the span of his life. And I considered what has developed and what has remained constant within this village over the past seven years. Unlike the night he was born, there is now a clinic that provides quality preventative and curative healthcare to this community. The rates of malaria infection have decreased. Several hundred traditional birth attendants have been trained in safe delivery methods for the mother and child. People have a greater awareness of HIV, and testing and treatment is accessible. Free public education has been made available throughout Kenya; and although overcrowding is a serious issue,
children like Daudi now have the opportunity to attend school. Trainings have been offered to Daudi’s family in the areas of sustainable agriculture. Eunice, Daudi’s mom, is a member of our adult education class and is learning to read and write. And his father, Franco, was part of the construction team that built the children’s home and Brook of Faith Academy. Sunday school has created an environment for Daudi, and so many other children, to learn about the love of Christ. Unfortunately, challenges still remain as poverty and disease continue in this land. For most of Daudi’s neighbors, living hand-to mouth eliminates the choices we as Westerners value. Basics such as drinking clean and safe water or eating more than one meal a day are a luxury. Lack of employment opportunities continues to leave many idle and feeling hopeless, which, in turn, leads to engaging in risky and destructive behavior. And the cycle continues….
Amidst victories and ongoing obstacles, I thank God for the opportunity to be here. In a sense, watching Daudi grow has allowed me to see the faithfulness of God. His life is a reminder to me that God is able even in hopeless situations, and that I exist for something greater than myself. The ways I choose to love or not to love matter in the Kingdom. And because of this, I want to grow in compassion. Thank you for your role in
God’s work in this community. I pray that mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to you.
A story of a friend.
I went this afternoon to sit with my friend named Hannah. She is 51 years old. She is married and has nine children. By the standards of the world, Hannah is poor. Over the past four years, a tumor has overtaken her face and parts of her brain leaving her body wasted and her face greatly disfigured. Her situation is full of loss and intense suffering. But this is not the whole story.
As I walked into her mud hut, I heard her voice saying: “Mtoto wangu, karibu sana.” meaning “My child, welcome so much”. I sat at Hannah’s bedside and saw how, even in the past five days, the tumor had grown noticeably larger around her eye and further into her mouth. Her speech was slurred but her spirit was full of life. She talked about how God continues to take care of her and then she waved her arms as she sang “Mungu yu mwema”- God is so good. She praised her daughters for the ongoing care they are providing to her as she is bedridden and dependent upon them 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It is hard for me to imagine talking about God’s goodness when faced with such pain; and yet her words are not a cliché, they are her hope.
I went to encourage Hannah; but I also went because she has something I long for. Hannah is beautiful. If you saw a picture of her, it would be impossible to see it; but there is a beauty that transcends and overshadows her appearance. Hannah knows the love of God, and it has cast out her fears. She is living in freedom and nothing in this world can take it away- not even death.
More than once, I have been humbled by the sweetness of God’s presence that rests upon this home. It causes me to be still and reminds me that God has not changed. Although questions remain unanswered, His faithfulness and love are not lessened by these struggles. In multiple languages, Hannah’s family and I have recited Psalm 23 together bringing life to these often quoted verses:
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
This afternoon, God used Hannah to speak His word to me. As I shared within my last update, I have recently been discouraged and overwhelmed by the challenges that surround. The weight feels so heavy; but this dear mama, on her deathbed, looked into my eyes and saw the burdens that I have been carrying. She said, “Juli, uko na wasi wasi. Usiwe na wasi wasi. Mungu anakulinda;” which means “Juli, you have worries- don’t worry. God is taking care of you”. As she spoke truth into my life, I grabbed her feeble hand, leaned forward and listened.
I pray that Hannah’s testimony will be an encouragement to you this day. I ask that as Hannah and her family come to your mind, please pray on their behalf. With much love, Juli
As I walked into her mud hut, I heard her voice saying: “Mtoto wangu, karibu sana.” meaning “My child, welcome so much”. I sat at Hannah’s bedside and saw how, even in the past five days, the tumor had grown noticeably larger around her eye and further into her mouth. Her speech was slurred but her spirit was full of life. She talked about how God continues to take care of her and then she waved her arms as she sang “Mungu yu mwema”- God is so good. She praised her daughters for the ongoing care they are providing to her as she is bedridden and dependent upon them 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It is hard for me to imagine talking about God’s goodness when faced with such pain; and yet her words are not a cliché, they are her hope.
I went to encourage Hannah; but I also went because she has something I long for. Hannah is beautiful. If you saw a picture of her, it would be impossible to see it; but there is a beauty that transcends and overshadows her appearance. Hannah knows the love of God, and it has cast out her fears. She is living in freedom and nothing in this world can take it away- not even death.
More than once, I have been humbled by the sweetness of God’s presence that rests upon this home. It causes me to be still and reminds me that God has not changed. Although questions remain unanswered, His faithfulness and love are not lessened by these struggles. In multiple languages, Hannah’s family and I have recited Psalm 23 together bringing life to these often quoted verses:
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
This afternoon, God used Hannah to speak His word to me. As I shared within my last update, I have recently been discouraged and overwhelmed by the challenges that surround. The weight feels so heavy; but this dear mama, on her deathbed, looked into my eyes and saw the burdens that I have been carrying. She said, “Juli, uko na wasi wasi. Usiwe na wasi wasi. Mungu anakulinda;” which means “Juli, you have worries- don’t worry. God is taking care of you”. As she spoke truth into my life, I grabbed her feeble hand, leaned forward and listened.
I pray that Hannah’s testimony will be an encouragement to you this day. I ask that as Hannah and her family come to your mind, please pray on their behalf. With much love, Juli
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Hope.
This past week, within ELI’s sphere of influence, three young families have been affected by death and 13 more orphans are on our minds and hearts. Questions about what is the best response for these families and children have no clear answers. I am challenged—what is true religion and what does it mean to love in action? With this in mind, I traveled 25 miles to a small village Saturday morning, July 7th, with ELI’s Tumaini na Afya team for an HIV/AIDS Awareness Campaign. It was a cold, rainy day, but God was with us.
The day included a soccer tournament, volleyball tournament, 10 km running race, 40 km bicycle race through the mud, and tug of war amongst other activities. The Salvation Army Band marched and captured the attention of 1,500 plus people who attended the campaign. The purpose of the day was to get the eminent message about HIV to the people—there is hope for people living with HIV/AIDS. In a land where everyone is all too familiar with the effects of HIV/AIDS, fear continues to plague the situation enabling the virus to steal, kill and destroy life. One tool we have to fight this virus is HIV counseling and testing. The test requires a small prick of a person’s finger and five minutes of his/her time. I might add that they are the longest five minutes imaginable as one waits to see whether one line appears on the test, which means he/she is HIV negative or two lines, HIV positive. However, motivating people to be tested is critical in this fight. It does not change whether or not a person has the virus, but it does change what he/she can do in response to it. On Saturday, the village of Kipsangui was challenged to face their fears, and 617 individuals responded and learned their HIV status. For those who tested negative, they do not have to live in fear and were counseled to make choices that will protect themselves and their families. For those who tested positive, they were referred to a free clinic where life-prolonging, quality treatment is available. There is social support to restore and maintain their dignity; and these people, by the grace of God, can live to see their children grow up. For there is no children’s home or community based orphan care program that can replace what is lost when parents die. I was reminded of that 13 times this past week.
In the midst of fighting what feels like an uphill battle, there is hope. As a ministry team, we find courage in knowing that our God is bigger than HIV/AIDS. I thank you, on behalf of the 617 people who now know their HIV status, for your ongoing financial support and prayers. As I follow God’s lead, I know that each individual is worth fighting for.
The day included a soccer tournament, volleyball tournament, 10 km running race, 40 km bicycle race through the mud, and tug of war amongst other activities. The Salvation Army Band marched and captured the attention of 1,500 plus people who attended the campaign. The purpose of the day was to get the eminent message about HIV to the people—there is hope for people living with HIV/AIDS. In a land where everyone is all too familiar with the effects of HIV/AIDS, fear continues to plague the situation enabling the virus to steal, kill and destroy life. One tool we have to fight this virus is HIV counseling and testing. The test requires a small prick of a person’s finger and five minutes of his/her time. I might add that they are the longest five minutes imaginable as one waits to see whether one line appears on the test, which means he/she is HIV negative or two lines, HIV positive. However, motivating people to be tested is critical in this fight. It does not change whether or not a person has the virus, but it does change what he/she can do in response to it. On Saturday, the village of Kipsangui was challenged to face their fears, and 617 individuals responded and learned their HIV status. For those who tested negative, they do not have to live in fear and were counseled to make choices that will protect themselves and their families. For those who tested positive, they were referred to a free clinic where life-prolonging, quality treatment is available. There is social support to restore and maintain their dignity; and these people, by the grace of God, can live to see their children grow up. For there is no children’s home or community based orphan care program that can replace what is lost when parents die. I was reminded of that 13 times this past week.
In the midst of fighting what feels like an uphill battle, there is hope. As a ministry team, we find courage in knowing that our God is bigger than HIV/AIDS. I thank you, on behalf of the 617 people who now know their HIV status, for your ongoing financial support and prayers. As I follow God’s lead, I know that each individual is worth fighting for.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A Child's Appeal
There are countless vulnerable children that fill this community. They understand what it is to be hungry. They are, all too often, sick from preventable diseases. They know death and loss as so many have watched their own parents die. It is easy to see and say that their life is not fair; and yet, this does not answer their questions. They were made for more than mere existence and somehow they know it. They are little dreamers who desire to learn, to laugh and play, to love and be loved.
Ezekiel Moiben, a parent of 24 children at the ELI Children’s Home in Kipkaren, wrote a poignant piece as the voice of a child and entitled it “A Child’s Appeal”.
I am a child. All the world awaits my coming.
All the world watches with interest-
to see what I shall become.
The future of the world hangs in the balance.
What I become, the future of tomorrow will be.
I am a child. I have come into the world,
about which I know nothing.
Why I came, I do not know.
How I came, I do not know.
I want to know. I am curious. I am interested.
I am a child. You hold my destiny in your hands.
You determine largely whether I shall succeed or fail.
Give me, I pray, these things that make for happiness.
Train me, I beg you, that I may be a blessing to the world.
When I read this, I can hear the voices of individual children who must be heard. I want to share the stories of two whose appeal has led to action in the form compassion.
The story continues. This evening, I sat with an eight-year-old girl named Iveen and her new “mom” as she took her first dose of anti-retrovirals, the medications given to fight the HIV virus. Much has happened in this child’s life in the last three weeks. She has lost her mother. She has moved to a new home and is living with a new family. And she has been diagnosed with HIV and has now begun treatment for AIDS.
In my last update, I told the story of Iveen’s mother Monica. She had passed away upon reaching the HIV/AIDS clinic, and our Home-Based Care team had transported her lifeless body to her home for burial. Iveen, her grandmother and her brother Kelvin (11), are experiencing what this virus has done to too many families. It has taken the strong and left the vulnerable. The children and the elderly are what remain. There is also the harsh reality that Iveen’s family lost its only source of income for food and survival.
On that first day, we crowded in their mud hut. It was hot, and we were all overwhelmed by the situation. I was asked to pray and found myself at loss for words. As we left the family and drove back down the dirt path, silence remained until Maru, a member of Tumaini na Afya (Hope & Health) said: “They have nothing. This is not OK.” Moved with compassion, he explained that he wanted to assist Monica’s children. At the moment, I do not think any of us knew what that meant; but after talking to Maru’s wife and meeting with Monica’s family at her burial, the Maru family decided to bring Iveen and Kelvin to Kipkaren to live with them.
Iveen and Kelvin—in the midst of tremendous loss—have been welcomed with love by Maru and his wife, Mama Jesang. The children have begun to attend Brook of Faith Academy, and Iveen is getting quality treatment at the nearby HIV/AIDS clinic. The children’s grandmother came to visit yesterday and expressed her sincere gratefulness. There are many things I will never understand upon this earth; but one thing is clear: God does not forget the humble. Her appeal was heard.
Appearances. Appearance can be misleading. For example, my friend Mama Daniel lives in a body that is only three feet tall. She has lived her life ridiculed and abused. She defines herself by her stature—and so does her community—even though any physical limitations she might have, are compensated for by her determination, creativity and incredible work ethics. She takes great care of her two sons, Daniel and Darius.
I met Mama Daniel and her five-year-old son—who also shares his mother’s short stature—at ELI’s clinic in Kipkaren. Daniel had just learned to walk and was experiencing severe pain in his back because his vertebrae did not have adequate space to grow in proper alignment. After consulting with several physicians, Daniel was referred to an orthopedic surgeon in Nairobi and taken for surgery. Because Mama Daniel was unable to afford this important but expensive surgery, we helped to support this family with the operation. Daniel recently returned home with a cast remaining over much of his torso; and like any little boy, he is ready for it to be removed. But his pain has reduced and his smile has returned.
On Sunday morning, Mama Daniel walked miles to come to our church. She stood and testified that she had come to church because she needed to thank God for what He has done for her child. She said that this was the first time she has been to church. She thought church was only for tall people.
She continued to explain that she used to take her son to various clinics to try and get help, but she left in tears every time . . . until she came to Kipkaren. She thanked God for standing with her. Then she led a song to praise Him. It was incredible. I was so moved. By us choosing to love her son, she felt accepted, perhaps for the first time.
There have been moments when I have sat with this mother and child and have been moved with compassion. It seems I have been given a glimpse of how God sees them, and they are deeply loved and accepted. Mama Daniel is truly a remarkable woman, and I pray that she will begin to see this truth. There is nothing about her nor about Daniel that is an accident. I thank God for the clarity to see beyond mere appearances into the greater reality of His Kingdom.
Thank you for your prayers and for your support. May God grant us the ears to hear, as there are many more appeals to be heard, and may He grant us hearts to respond with wisdom and compassion.
Ezekiel Moiben, a parent of 24 children at the ELI Children’s Home in Kipkaren, wrote a poignant piece as the voice of a child and entitled it “A Child’s Appeal”.
I am a child. All the world awaits my coming.
All the world watches with interest-
to see what I shall become.
The future of the world hangs in the balance.
What I become, the future of tomorrow will be.
I am a child. I have come into the world,
about which I know nothing.
Why I came, I do not know.
How I came, I do not know.
I want to know. I am curious. I am interested.
I am a child. You hold my destiny in your hands.
You determine largely whether I shall succeed or fail.
Give me, I pray, these things that make for happiness.
Train me, I beg you, that I may be a blessing to the world.
When I read this, I can hear the voices of individual children who must be heard. I want to share the stories of two whose appeal has led to action in the form compassion.
The story continues. This evening, I sat with an eight-year-old girl named Iveen and her new “mom” as she took her first dose of anti-retrovirals, the medications given to fight the HIV virus. Much has happened in this child’s life in the last three weeks. She has lost her mother. She has moved to a new home and is living with a new family. And she has been diagnosed with HIV and has now begun treatment for AIDS.
In my last update, I told the story of Iveen’s mother Monica. She had passed away upon reaching the HIV/AIDS clinic, and our Home-Based Care team had transported her lifeless body to her home for burial. Iveen, her grandmother and her brother Kelvin (11), are experiencing what this virus has done to too many families. It has taken the strong and left the vulnerable. The children and the elderly are what remain. There is also the harsh reality that Iveen’s family lost its only source of income for food and survival.
On that first day, we crowded in their mud hut. It was hot, and we were all overwhelmed by the situation. I was asked to pray and found myself at loss for words. As we left the family and drove back down the dirt path, silence remained until Maru, a member of Tumaini na Afya (Hope & Health) said: “They have nothing. This is not OK.” Moved with compassion, he explained that he wanted to assist Monica’s children. At the moment, I do not think any of us knew what that meant; but after talking to Maru’s wife and meeting with Monica’s family at her burial, the Maru family decided to bring Iveen and Kelvin to Kipkaren to live with them.
Iveen and Kelvin—in the midst of tremendous loss—have been welcomed with love by Maru and his wife, Mama Jesang. The children have begun to attend Brook of Faith Academy, and Iveen is getting quality treatment at the nearby HIV/AIDS clinic. The children’s grandmother came to visit yesterday and expressed her sincere gratefulness. There are many things I will never understand upon this earth; but one thing is clear: God does not forget the humble. Her appeal was heard.
Appearances. Appearance can be misleading. For example, my friend Mama Daniel lives in a body that is only three feet tall. She has lived her life ridiculed and abused. She defines herself by her stature—and so does her community—even though any physical limitations she might have, are compensated for by her determination, creativity and incredible work ethics. She takes great care of her two sons, Daniel and Darius.
I met Mama Daniel and her five-year-old son—who also shares his mother’s short stature—at ELI’s clinic in Kipkaren. Daniel had just learned to walk and was experiencing severe pain in his back because his vertebrae did not have adequate space to grow in proper alignment. After consulting with several physicians, Daniel was referred to an orthopedic surgeon in Nairobi and taken for surgery. Because Mama Daniel was unable to afford this important but expensive surgery, we helped to support this family with the operation. Daniel recently returned home with a cast remaining over much of his torso; and like any little boy, he is ready for it to be removed. But his pain has reduced and his smile has returned.
On Sunday morning, Mama Daniel walked miles to come to our church. She stood and testified that she had come to church because she needed to thank God for what He has done for her child. She said that this was the first time she has been to church. She thought church was only for tall people.
She continued to explain that she used to take her son to various clinics to try and get help, but she left in tears every time . . . until she came to Kipkaren. She thanked God for standing with her. Then she led a song to praise Him. It was incredible. I was so moved. By us choosing to love her son, she felt accepted, perhaps for the first time.
There have been moments when I have sat with this mother and child and have been moved with compassion. It seems I have been given a glimpse of how God sees them, and they are deeply loved and accepted. Mama Daniel is truly a remarkable woman, and I pray that she will begin to see this truth. There is nothing about her nor about Daniel that is an accident. I thank God for the clarity to see beyond mere appearances into the greater reality of His Kingdom.
Thank you for your prayers and for your support. May God grant us the ears to hear, as there are many more appeals to be heard, and may He grant us hearts to respond with wisdom and compassion.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
What are your fears related to HIV?
What are your fears related to HIV? This is the question asked to open a three-day training on what it means to be a caregiver. After an hour of people sharing their responses, the room grows quiet. The realities of HIV, the fears surrounding it are realized.
Then a second question is posed: Is there hope? Once again, silence fills the room. It is a sobering moment; but I have seen it again and again, with fears identified, they lose their power. Space for hope to rise is given. Now, we can begin the training.
This week, 23 trainees have traveled from their homes, from various churches in surrounding villages. These individuals may not know the horrifying statistic that says 25 million people, in Sub-Saharan Africa, are infected with the virus that causes AIDS. But they know their neighbor who keeps being diagnosed with malaria but never recovers. They have attended the burial of their brother and then their sister -in –law. They now have four more children to feed. To these, HIV is not a statistic. It is a nightmare.
Over the past two and a half years, ELI’s Tumaini na Afya (Hope & Health), have trained nearly 300 people the art of caregiving by increasing their knowledge surrounding HIV, proper nutrition, the importance of HIV testing, how to connect the sick with testing and then treatment. For all who are willing, the opportunity for them to learn their HIV status is provided. The last day of the course has been termed “Loving Day” provides the trainees practical experience. They go with members of our team to visit clients within our community. They go to encourage, to assist. They practice what they have learned with the goal that they will take this to their communities.
As I was teaching this morning, I was convinced again: there is hope. There is hope, because there is a God who has not, who cannot, forget his children. As members of the Church of Jesus Christ, we are called to be His hands, His feet. The need is great. The opportunities are limitless.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Home.
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.
Tax-exempt donations may be sent to Empowering Lives International
PO Box 67 Upland, CA 91785 Phone 909.476.6822
email: julimcgowan@empoweringlives.org web: www.empoweringlives.org
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Seasons of Life.
King Solomon, in his wisdom, once wrote: “to everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). For our Home-Based Care team in Kipkaren, this is a season for us to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Over the past weeks, we have lost several of our dear friends to death. It feels as if we finish the burial of one only to lose another. Our hearts are heavy. Our questions remain unanswered. But in this broken place, we are not without hope. We are being reminded that this world is not our home. We are experiencing the grace that is sufficient to carry us through. We are learning, even more, to depend upon God and one another to continue in the work to which we have been called.
On Valentine’s Day, I received the call that Edwin, the young boy with heart disease, had become acutely sick. He had recently been discharged from the hospital after several unsuccessful attempts to treat his condition. He had wanted to go home. So, he spent his last days with his family in the familiarity of his home and village.
By the time I reached his home, he had already passed away. His family’s small grass-thatched hut was full of neighbors and family members grieving the loss of their child. There was a single candle to light the blackness of the night. At times, the only sound was of a mother crying over the loss of her son. Edwin’s brother laid beside him unaware of all that was taking place. And my heart felt the loss of one that I loved.
Over the past month, these lyrics have been my cry:
When I don’t know what to do,
I’ll lift my hands.
When I don’t know what to say,
I’ll speak your praise.
When I don’t know where to go,
I’ll run to your throne.
When I don’t know what to think,
I’ll stand on your truth.
-Tommy Walker
I thank you for your continued prayers for us as we experience life and death in this place. Your prayers are a source of strength in the midst of our weakness. One thing that has become so evident to me as we journey through this valley is that death is only a shadow. There is life beyond this broken world and the separation we are experiencing is temporary
Thursday, February 01, 2007
In memory of a friend.
Timon Kutto
1/28/63-1/25/07
Last Thursday morning, I received a phone call saying that Timon, a beloved patient and friend, had passed away in the night. Over the past two and a half years, I have had the amazing privilege of knowing and loving this man and his family. HIV/AIDS had stolen his physical body but was never able to infect the beauty of his spirit. It is impossible to explain, but God used Timon’s life to reveal Himself to me in a profound and personal way. As Jesus had promised in Matthew
25, I encountered Him as I visited my sick friend.
For the past few years, Timon spent most of his days under the shade of a tree; and by the time I met him, his speech was very limited. It was his gentle yet piercing eyes that told his unspoken stories and led me to write these lyrics: “The words you long to say, the stories you’ve hidden away– they’re in your eyes, your tear-stained eyes. Dreams lost, brokenness found. Loneliness is all that’s around. It’s in your eyes, your tear-stained eyes. Lost dreamer, dream again– you are going home.” I can only imagine the way Jesus welcomed His child with outstretched arms. He wiped away Timon’s tears. And Timon was freed from the struggles of this world to dance and praise the One who never left his side. Up until the end, without fail, Timon would lift his hand towards heaven and say “Mungu tu”. “It’s only God”.
Timon’s joy was found in his nine year old son named Kipchumba. Just one week prior to Timon’s death, I felt so strongly that if we wanted to love Timon we needed to care for his son. In Timon’s last days, Kipchumba began attending ELI’s Brook of Faith Academy in Kipkaren and is receiving quality education and loving care allowing his father to rest. I thank God that He is the Father of the fatherless. Please pray for Kipchumba.
I will miss the moments with Timon but will forever be grateful for the gift God gave to me through his life. He proved to me that, although it be costly, love never fails.
“LET THE HAND OF THE LORD TAKE CARE OF ME UNTIL I GO HOME.” -
TRANSLATED FROM KALENJIIN, THE LYRICS TO TIMON’S FAVORITE SONG
Monday, January 22, 2007
God with us.
Each month in Kipkaren we pick a theme to represent the activities and focus of our ministry. In December, the theme was God with us; and so many times throughout the month, I saw this to be true. Christmas in Kenya was simple. In this little village, there were no holiday parties to attend, no hopes for a white Christmas, and no stores to rush to for the latest sales. More or less, Christmas felt the same as every other day; and yet, within this place, there is a clear understanding that there is reason to celebrate.
Just prior to Christmas, I went with several members of my Kenyan family to bless the poorest of the poor in our community. We bought food, gathered clothing, and set out to visit our neighbors. We started at the home of a 30 year old widow named Rael who lives with her three young children. It is difficult to explain, but we received the greater blessing that day as Rael graciously welcomed us into her simple grass-thatched hut. The struggle and disappointments of her life are great; but in that moment, we shared together in the faithfulness of our God. In that humble place, I was reminded of God with us and struck by the notion that there is no place Jesus will not go for the sake of love. He met me that day in the disguise of a broken-hearted widow.
On Christmas morning, the 96 children from the ELI Kipkaren Children’s Home as well as others from our church and community gathered to celebrate. I was moved as the children sang a beautiful song in Swahili. The words say, “God, without you, I do not know where I would be.” As I looked into the faces of these precious children, I remembered how they arrived to Kipkaren, just a few months prior, with fear and so many questions in their eyes. They had lost so much in their short lives but on Christmas morning, tears filled my eyes as I saw joy across their faces. They were singing of God with us.
Children Singing on Christmas Morning
I have entered 2007 with great expectations for what God will do in this ministry and within my heart this year. I look forward to sharing with you the struggles and joys of this journey. I have attached a collage of pictures taken throughout 2006. Thank you so much for your generous support through prayer and financial gifts. Mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Heart Condition
Over the past few months, I have been remaining in the words that Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). I believe that His message was not simply a memorized sermon; but rather, He was speaking the very heart of God. He was teaching about a Kingdom that belongs to the poor in spirit, to those who know they need Him. He was telling us to seek this Kingdom and His righteousness first and revealing to His friends that all of the law could be summed up in this: love God and love your neighbors. He did not want us to worry about our lives; but rather, he desired for us to grow in trust of our Father who gives good gifts to His children.
I do not pretend to understand all that Jesus was trying to say, but I have come to realize and truly believe that the condition of our heart is what matters to God. Our words and actions, no matter how good, are only of value if they are said and done with love. As man, we see the outward appearance of things, but God sees the heart. Amazingly, the blessing promised to those with a pure heart is to see God. What a promise.
I am often reminded that God is seen in unlikely places. Recently, I was stopped along the side of the road, and a young boy who was selling peanuts came to the car window. In Kenya, when people are not interested in buying what is being sold, we say: “Si leo, labda kesho,” which means “not today, maybe tomorrow.” I was not prepared for the wisdom that proceeded from the child’s mouth when he said, “tomorrow is just a dream. Today is life.” This child understood something that Jesus once taught when he said, “do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own troubles.” God used that small boy to allow me to see His Kingdom more clearly as he reminded me- today is life. Needless to say, I bought the peanuts.
Lost Boys of Sudan…
Over the past year, the people of Southern Sudan have landed within my mind and grabbed my heart in a powerful way. As I’ve listened to their stories and read about their experience of survival through twenty plus years of civil war; my mind has been filled with many unanswered questions, my heart has been moved with compassion and broken over injustice, and I have learned to pray for peace in a way that I had neglected before.
One of the tragedies and remarkable aspects of the war lies within the telling stories of a group who have come to be known as the Lost Boys of Sudan. Between 1987 and 1989, it is estimated that 20,000 little boys from across Southern Sudan, after watching their villages being burned and their families being massacred, began a fierce journey of survival. Alephonosion Deng, one of the Lost Boys, explains: “The name Lost Boys came to be when our village was attacked by fierce Arab horsemen. We, little boys, spewed out of the blazing village like a colony of ants disturbed in their nest. We ran in different directions not knowing where we are going. We gathered some fruits for our breakfast and lunch. We, little boys, were so messy, all chaos and cries filling the dark, fiercely lightless night.”
Barefoot, they walked a thousand miles through the hot deserts often defending themselves from wild animals such as lions and crocodiles. Without food and water, they ate mud and leaves to avoid starvation. Often, they grew gravely sick but would keep going in order to survive. In the nearly impossible walk, half of the boys died along the way before the others were able to find shelter in refugee camps in Uganda and Kenya.
In They Poured Fire on Us From the Sky, Benson Deng writes of his experiences as a Lost Boy. In one account, he tells of the day he was reunited with his brother after five years of separation:
Then my heart began pounding deeply and I knew at once this was my younger brother, Alepho, whom I’d left back home five years earlier. He was ten years old now and nearly as tall as me. He knew me too. We hugged each other in tears. Seeing my own brother again was the greatest moment of joy in my life… After wandering for so long, I finally had a home and family. The war that had flung us to the wind had set us back down together.
In 1987, Abraham, one of my dear friends who works with Empowering Lives Sudan, was nine years old when he was forced to leave Sudan. In his story, Abraham was separated from his mother and watched his father die as they journeyed across Sudan. After walking for three months through the Sudanese bush and desert, he arrived at a refugee camp on the border of Ethiopia; but in 1991, guerrillas destroyed the camp. Once again, he was faced with the treacherous journey across volatile Sudan. In the return, the group he was travelling with were attacked by Arabs from the north, and Abraham watched many of his friends being killed. Abraham continued walking until he reached a refugee camp in Northern Uganda. Eventually, he was relocated to another refugee camp in Kenya.
When I asked Abraham about his experience as a Lost Boy, without bitterness, he humbly replied: “As a refugee, I was faced with a question. I left my family in Sudan, but who is my guide? When I was travelling all of those months, I was sick. I did not have medicine. I asked myself: who is my healer?” These questions eventually led Abraham to know his God in a deep and personal way.
In August of 2005, 8 months after the peace treaty was signed between Northern & Southern Sudan and 18 years after a nine year old boy fled from his homeland, Abraham returned to his village of Kolmarek. He returned as a 26 year old man with a vision to rebuild what war had destroyed: his home. Please join me in praying for Abraham and the other Lost Boys who are now young men. Pray that they will find peace and their home. Pray for the rebuilding of Sudan.
A Season to Celebrate…
If there were a theme for this past month of life in Kipkaren, it would best be described as a season of remembering and celebrating God’s faithfulness.
- 10.28.06. Thousands came to celebrate the 10th anniversary of ELI Kenya as well as the grand opening of the ELI Children’s Home in Kipkaren & Brook of Faith Academy (the elementary school for the children in our children’s home & community). It was wonderful to hear members of the community share their stories of how the various ministries of ELI have transformed their lives and this community.
- 11.4.06. The village of Kipkaren as well as friends from throughout Kenya joined together for the purpose of raising funds for ELI’s UPEC Chebaiywa Clinic. As the health ministry continues to expand, ongoing development at the clinic is needed. We thank God for his provision as we were able to raise $5900.
- 11.17.06. An HIV/AIDS Awareness Campaign was held within the village of Sambut. Nearly a thousand people attended the activity and 455 people were tested and counseled regarding their HIV status
I do not pretend to understand all that Jesus was trying to say, but I have come to realize and truly believe that the condition of our heart is what matters to God. Our words and actions, no matter how good, are only of value if they are said and done with love. As man, we see the outward appearance of things, but God sees the heart. Amazingly, the blessing promised to those with a pure heart is to see God. What a promise.
I am often reminded that God is seen in unlikely places. Recently, I was stopped along the side of the road, and a young boy who was selling peanuts came to the car window. In Kenya, when people are not interested in buying what is being sold, we say: “Si leo, labda kesho,” which means “not today, maybe tomorrow.” I was not prepared for the wisdom that proceeded from the child’s mouth when he said, “tomorrow is just a dream. Today is life.” This child understood something that Jesus once taught when he said, “do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own troubles.” God used that small boy to allow me to see His Kingdom more clearly as he reminded me- today is life. Needless to say, I bought the peanuts.
Lost Boys of Sudan…
Over the past year, the people of Southern Sudan have landed within my mind and grabbed my heart in a powerful way. As I’ve listened to their stories and read about their experience of survival through twenty plus years of civil war; my mind has been filled with many unanswered questions, my heart has been moved with compassion and broken over injustice, and I have learned to pray for peace in a way that I had neglected before.
One of the tragedies and remarkable aspects of the war lies within the telling stories of a group who have come to be known as the Lost Boys of Sudan. Between 1987 and 1989, it is estimated that 20,000 little boys from across Southern Sudan, after watching their villages being burned and their families being massacred, began a fierce journey of survival. Alephonosion Deng, one of the Lost Boys, explains: “The name Lost Boys came to be when our village was attacked by fierce Arab horsemen. We, little boys, spewed out of the blazing village like a colony of ants disturbed in their nest. We ran in different directions not knowing where we are going. We gathered some fruits for our breakfast and lunch. We, little boys, were so messy, all chaos and cries filling the dark, fiercely lightless night.”
Barefoot, they walked a thousand miles through the hot deserts often defending themselves from wild animals such as lions and crocodiles. Without food and water, they ate mud and leaves to avoid starvation. Often, they grew gravely sick but would keep going in order to survive. In the nearly impossible walk, half of the boys died along the way before the others were able to find shelter in refugee camps in Uganda and Kenya.
In They Poured Fire on Us From the Sky, Benson Deng writes of his experiences as a Lost Boy. In one account, he tells of the day he was reunited with his brother after five years of separation:
Then my heart began pounding deeply and I knew at once this was my younger brother, Alepho, whom I’d left back home five years earlier. He was ten years old now and nearly as tall as me. He knew me too. We hugged each other in tears. Seeing my own brother again was the greatest moment of joy in my life… After wandering for so long, I finally had a home and family. The war that had flung us to the wind had set us back down together.
In 1987, Abraham, one of my dear friends who works with Empowering Lives Sudan, was nine years old when he was forced to leave Sudan. In his story, Abraham was separated from his mother and watched his father die as they journeyed across Sudan. After walking for three months through the Sudanese bush and desert, he arrived at a refugee camp on the border of Ethiopia; but in 1991, guerrillas destroyed the camp. Once again, he was faced with the treacherous journey across volatile Sudan. In the return, the group he was travelling with were attacked by Arabs from the north, and Abraham watched many of his friends being killed. Abraham continued walking until he reached a refugee camp in Northern Uganda. Eventually, he was relocated to another refugee camp in Kenya.
When I asked Abraham about his experience as a Lost Boy, without bitterness, he humbly replied: “As a refugee, I was faced with a question. I left my family in Sudan, but who is my guide? When I was travelling all of those months, I was sick. I did not have medicine. I asked myself: who is my healer?” These questions eventually led Abraham to know his God in a deep and personal way.
In August of 2005, 8 months after the peace treaty was signed between Northern & Southern Sudan and 18 years after a nine year old boy fled from his homeland, Abraham returned to his village of Kolmarek. He returned as a 26 year old man with a vision to rebuild what war had destroyed: his home. Please join me in praying for Abraham and the other Lost Boys who are now young men. Pray that they will find peace and their home. Pray for the rebuilding of Sudan.
A Season to Celebrate…
If there were a theme for this past month of life in Kipkaren, it would best be described as a season of remembering and celebrating God’s faithfulness.
- 10.28.06. Thousands came to celebrate the 10th anniversary of ELI Kenya as well as the grand opening of the ELI Children’s Home in Kipkaren & Brook of Faith Academy (the elementary school for the children in our children’s home & community). It was wonderful to hear members of the community share their stories of how the various ministries of ELI have transformed their lives and this community.
- 11.4.06. The village of Kipkaren as well as friends from throughout Kenya joined together for the purpose of raising funds for ELI’s UPEC Chebaiywa Clinic. As the health ministry continues to expand, ongoing development at the clinic is needed. We thank God for his provision as we were able to raise $5900.
- 11.17.06. An HIV/AIDS Awareness Campaign was held within the village of Sambut. Nearly a thousand people attended the activity and 455 people were tested and counseled regarding their HIV status
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Go and Do Likewise.
As I press on to follow Christ’s example of living out compassion, I am confronted with a question: who is my neighbor? I wonder: who are the ones that I live life alongside of and, by encountering them, have the opportunity to learn what it means to “love my neighbor as myself”? When Jesus was asked this very question, he refused to limit neighbors by geographical residence, race, family or religious affiliation. Instead, as he often did, Jesus chose to tell a story. It’s the familiar parable where a man was beaten by thieves and left to die. Two men separately noticed the man suffering alongside the road but simply passed by. But when the Samaritan, an outcast of the day, came to where the man was lying, he was moved with compassion. The Samaritan bandaged the injured man’s wounds and made arrangements for his continued care. As Jesus concluded his story, he asked the question: “Which of the three do you think was a neighbor to him who fell among the thieves?” And he replied, “He who showed mercy on him.” Jesus told the man: “Go and do likewise” (Luke 10:29-37).
As I reflect upon this story, I recognize myself in each of the characters. I regret that, far too many times, I have been availed the opportunity to show mercy but, with great excuses, have simply passed by. Other times, I have been the one sick and in need. In those times, I have received the gracious touch from a Good Samaritan and been restored. And, ever increasingly, there are moments when my heart is moved with compassion; and as I hear the words of Jesus to “go and do likewise”, I love. More than ever, I am convinced that, as Brennan Manning stated: “the success of [my] life will be measured by how delicately and sensitively I have loved… For the meaning of our religion is love. Christianity is all about loving, and we either take it or leave it. It’s not about worship and morality, except insofar as these things are expressions of the love that causes them both.”
As I continue to discover who my neighbor is and, more importantly, ways that I can show mercy to them; I wanted to share, in brief, about what is happening in the community of Kipkaren and in the lives of several of my neighbors…
Children’s Home.
There are now 96 little ones living in the Kipkaren Children’s Home. In caring for their health, I am privileged with the opportunity to spend a lot of time amongst these children. It never ceases to amaze me how God shows up in unexpected places. He took me by surprise tonight as I walked into a room filled with 18 children seated with their new mom. Their faces were aglow by the light of a small lantern, and their exuberant greetings overwhelmed me with joy.
But it was one child’s face in particular that caught my attention. His face is familiar to me as he is one of the orphans that moved to the children’s home from our community. His name is Omari; and being his neighbor, I am used to seeing this child dirty, wearing his tattered clothing and always somehow seeming to be lost. I don’t mean “lost” in a directionally challenged sort of way; but rather, he was in search for a place where he could belong. Shelter, daily bread, love, and the list goes on were not consistent in his life.
I have greeted him countless times walking our dirt paths, but I have never seen him smile like he smiled at me tonight. As he looked into my eyes, he was speaking to me in a way that goes deeper than words. It was as if he were saying: “thank you” and that he has been found in this refuge. It was only a moment, but that is all it took to touch my heart. So after a long day and a full week, I am grateful to God for the gift given to me through the smile of a little boy who was once an orphan.
HIV/AIDS Awareness Campaign.
On September 1, our Home-Based Care team gathered together in a village called Kaptebee with several thousand people for the purpose of increasing awareness and hope concerning HIV/AIDS and to offer HIV testing and counseling. In a single day, 721 people were tested and those who were HIV positive were referred for treatment at a nearby clinic. It was a day of victory in this long battle that must be fought against HIV/AIDS.
A Broken Heart.
Upon moving to Kipkaren in 2004, I met a little boy named Edwin. His story and life touched my heart deeply. 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. After medical evaluation, it was reported that his heart was failing with no treatment options available. It seemed that life would end quickly for this child; but as I visited Edwin and his family over the past two years, he continued to survive. A few weeks ago, I took Edwin to another physician that I respect greatly to see if there could be any possible treatment options. Edwin was admitted to the hospital and, as suspected, was diagnosed with Constrictive Pericarditis which means that the extra fluid that was in between the outer lining of his heart and the heart muscle was not allowing the heart muscle the room it needs to beat adequately. This condition was causing fluid to build up within his abdomen as well as many other complications. Since being admitted to the hospital, Edwin has had two surgeries and the prognosis is not clear. I am asking God to heal Edwin’s heart and to bring hope again to his family. I ask you to join me in praying on behalf of a little boy who needs a new heart.
As I reflect upon this story, I recognize myself in each of the characters. I regret that, far too many times, I have been availed the opportunity to show mercy but, with great excuses, have simply passed by. Other times, I have been the one sick and in need. In those times, I have received the gracious touch from a Good Samaritan and been restored. And, ever increasingly, there are moments when my heart is moved with compassion; and as I hear the words of Jesus to “go and do likewise”, I love. More than ever, I am convinced that, as Brennan Manning stated: “the success of [my] life will be measured by how delicately and sensitively I have loved… For the meaning of our religion is love. Christianity is all about loving, and we either take it or leave it. It’s not about worship and morality, except insofar as these things are expressions of the love that causes them both.”
As I continue to discover who my neighbor is and, more importantly, ways that I can show mercy to them; I wanted to share, in brief, about what is happening in the community of Kipkaren and in the lives of several of my neighbors…
Children’s Home.
There are now 96 little ones living in the Kipkaren Children’s Home. In caring for their health, I am privileged with the opportunity to spend a lot of time amongst these children. It never ceases to amaze me how God shows up in unexpected places. He took me by surprise tonight as I walked into a room filled with 18 children seated with their new mom. Their faces were aglow by the light of a small lantern, and their exuberant greetings overwhelmed me with joy.
But it was one child’s face in particular that caught my attention. His face is familiar to me as he is one of the orphans that moved to the children’s home from our community. His name is Omari; and being his neighbor, I am used to seeing this child dirty, wearing his tattered clothing and always somehow seeming to be lost. I don’t mean “lost” in a directionally challenged sort of way; but rather, he was in search for a place where he could belong. Shelter, daily bread, love, and the list goes on were not consistent in his life.
I have greeted him countless times walking our dirt paths, but I have never seen him smile like he smiled at me tonight. As he looked into my eyes, he was speaking to me in a way that goes deeper than words. It was as if he were saying: “thank you” and that he has been found in this refuge. It was only a moment, but that is all it took to touch my heart. So after a long day and a full week, I am grateful to God for the gift given to me through the smile of a little boy who was once an orphan.
HIV/AIDS Awareness Campaign.
On September 1, our Home-Based Care team gathered together in a village called Kaptebee with several thousand people for the purpose of increasing awareness and hope concerning HIV/AIDS and to offer HIV testing and counseling. In a single day, 721 people were tested and those who were HIV positive were referred for treatment at a nearby clinic. It was a day of victory in this long battle that must be fought against HIV/AIDS.
A Broken Heart.
Upon moving to Kipkaren in 2004, I met a little boy named Edwin. His story and life touched my heart deeply. 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. After medical evaluation, it was reported that his heart was failing with no treatment options available. It seemed that life would end quickly for this child; but as I visited Edwin and his family over the past two years, he continued to survive. A few weeks ago, I took Edwin to another physician that I respect greatly to see if there could be any possible treatment options. Edwin was admitted to the hospital and, as suspected, was diagnosed with Constrictive Pericarditis which means that the extra fluid that was in between the outer lining of his heart and the heart muscle was not allowing the heart muscle the room it needs to beat adequately. This condition was causing fluid to build up within his abdomen as well as many other complications. Since being admitted to the hospital, Edwin has had two surgeries and the prognosis is not clear. I am asking God to heal Edwin’s heart and to bring hope again to his family. I ask you to join me in praying on behalf of a little boy who needs a new heart.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Patrick's Story
Over the past two years, the compassion of Jesus Christ has led me far deeper than my mind knew to comprehend. I have experienced that His love has no limits and is powerful enough to cast out fear and transform lives. I want to share the story of one little boy, who represents so many others, whose lives are being restored with hope and purpose…
Patrick’s contagious smile fails to tell the abuse he has endured, the challenges he has overcome, and the battle he continues to face. As a 9-year old boy, Patrick’s story is one that breaks the heart. He was born to a single mother who died of AIDS related complications. He was rejected and abandoned by the rest of his family because he is also infected with the HIV virus. After a Good Samaritan found Patrick very sick, living in the bush without shelter; he was admitted to a local hospital where he continued to live for six months.
Upon learning of Patrick’s story, I had the privilege to bring him from the hospital to his new home at ELI’s Kipkaren Children’s Home. When the social worker from the hospital explained to Patrick that he would be coming to Kipkaren to live and would attend school for the first time in his life, Patrick smiled brightly and threw his arms around me tightly. In that moment, I realized that through this child I was going to learn not only about loving but also about being loved.
Upon arriving to the children’s home, he leaned against my chest as he was welcomed by the singing of his 25 new brothers and sisters. In Swahili, I whispered in his ear, “Patrick, God loves you, he loves you so much!” Although Patrick has lived so much of his life rejected, there is a Father who has caught the tears from his silent cries. In that moment, I was reminded of the words of Proverbs 31:8-9, words that have been so often haunting and challenging me throughout this year: “Open your mouth for the speechless, in the cause of all who are appointed to die. Open your mouth, judge righteously. And plead the cause of the poor and needy.” The love of Christ is what has brought Patrick to this refuge where he is accepted and cared for. As I learn what it is to serve God by loving His children, I am truly humbled and amazed at His provision. As the body of Christ joins together to live out His mission of “preaching the good news to the poor, healing the brokenhearted, proclaiming liberty to the captives, recovery of sight to the
blind, and setting free those who are oppressed” (Luke 4:18); I have witnessed His Kingdom come, one life at a time.
I am committed to live in Kipkaren and to serve with ELI as long as God leads. I invite you to continue to join me in this journey. Your prayers and financial gifts are gratefully received. The cost for living and continuing the work in Kipkaren will be around $50,000 for this next one year (the increased expenses are due to the expansion of our HIV/AIDS program). Please consider making a one-time gift or a monthly commitment to partner with me as I minister to the physical, spiritual and emotional needs of the people affected by HIV/AIDS.
This year, with your help . . .
-Mobile HIV testing and counseling services were offered in 20 villages with nearly 2,500 people being tested. Those who tested positive have been referred to
a comprehensive HIV/AIDS treatment program.
- HIV/AIDS Awareness Campaigns were held in six villages with the goal of promoting awareness, reducing stigma, and offering HIV testing. Various games—including football tournaments, volleyball, bicycle races, and running— as well as a professional band from
Nairobi were utilized to draw crowds which have ranged from 700 to 3,000 people. HIV+ individuals from the project willingly shared about their HIV status and encouraged others within the community to be tested.
- HIV/AIDS Caregiver Trainings were offered and completed by 204 individuals from 60 villages. After the three-day trainings, individuals were encouraged to return to their villages to
increase awareness within their community, to promote HIV testing and referral, and to be caregivers to the sick. Follow-up is conducted at three, six, and nine month intervals.
- Traditional Birth Attendant Training was given to 132 women from 10 villages over 18 weeks. Special emphasis was placed upon the topics of HIV awareness and the prevention of mother to child transmission.
- Basics of HIV/AIDS trainings were conducted to approximately 3,400 students at 17 primary and secondary schools.
- An outreach program was started for seven local prostitutes to help them realize their value as children of God and to train them to find other ways to provide for their families.
- A mission trip was taken to Southern Sudan where 1,046 patients were offered general medical and dental services.
- ELI Kipkaren Children’s Home has been constructed and serves as a refuge and a home for a total of 96 orphaned children.
- The Home-Based Care team continues to visit 25 HIV+ individuals to follow up on their medication adherence, their nutritional status and overall physical and emotional health.
Patrick’s contagious smile fails to tell the abuse he has endured, the challenges he has overcome, and the battle he continues to face. As a 9-year old boy, Patrick’s story is one that breaks the heart. He was born to a single mother who died of AIDS related complications. He was rejected and abandoned by the rest of his family because he is also infected with the HIV virus. After a Good Samaritan found Patrick very sick, living in the bush without shelter; he was admitted to a local hospital where he continued to live for six months.
Upon learning of Patrick’s story, I had the privilege to bring him from the hospital to his new home at ELI’s Kipkaren Children’s Home. When the social worker from the hospital explained to Patrick that he would be coming to Kipkaren to live and would attend school for the first time in his life, Patrick smiled brightly and threw his arms around me tightly. In that moment, I realized that through this child I was going to learn not only about loving but also about being loved.
Upon arriving to the children’s home, he leaned against my chest as he was welcomed by the singing of his 25 new brothers and sisters. In Swahili, I whispered in his ear, “Patrick, God loves you, he loves you so much!” Although Patrick has lived so much of his life rejected, there is a Father who has caught the tears from his silent cries. In that moment, I was reminded of the words of Proverbs 31:8-9, words that have been so often haunting and challenging me throughout this year: “Open your mouth for the speechless, in the cause of all who are appointed to die. Open your mouth, judge righteously. And plead the cause of the poor and needy.” The love of Christ is what has brought Patrick to this refuge where he is accepted and cared for. As I learn what it is to serve God by loving His children, I am truly humbled and amazed at His provision. As the body of Christ joins together to live out His mission of “preaching the good news to the poor, healing the brokenhearted, proclaiming liberty to the captives, recovery of sight to the
blind, and setting free those who are oppressed” (Luke 4:18); I have witnessed His Kingdom come, one life at a time.
I am committed to live in Kipkaren and to serve with ELI as long as God leads. I invite you to continue to join me in this journey. Your prayers and financial gifts are gratefully received. The cost for living and continuing the work in Kipkaren will be around $50,000 for this next one year (the increased expenses are due to the expansion of our HIV/AIDS program). Please consider making a one-time gift or a monthly commitment to partner with me as I minister to the physical, spiritual and emotional needs of the people affected by HIV/AIDS.
This year, with your help . . .
-Mobile HIV testing and counseling services were offered in 20 villages with nearly 2,500 people being tested. Those who tested positive have been referred to
a comprehensive HIV/AIDS treatment program.
- HIV/AIDS Awareness Campaigns were held in six villages with the goal of promoting awareness, reducing stigma, and offering HIV testing. Various games—including football tournaments, volleyball, bicycle races, and running— as well as a professional band from
Nairobi were utilized to draw crowds which have ranged from 700 to 3,000 people. HIV+ individuals from the project willingly shared about their HIV status and encouraged others within the community to be tested.
- HIV/AIDS Caregiver Trainings were offered and completed by 204 individuals from 60 villages. After the three-day trainings, individuals were encouraged to return to their villages to
increase awareness within their community, to promote HIV testing and referral, and to be caregivers to the sick. Follow-up is conducted at three, six, and nine month intervals.
- Traditional Birth Attendant Training was given to 132 women from 10 villages over 18 weeks. Special emphasis was placed upon the topics of HIV awareness and the prevention of mother to child transmission.
- Basics of HIV/AIDS trainings were conducted to approximately 3,400 students at 17 primary and secondary schools.
- An outreach program was started for seven local prostitutes to help them realize their value as children of God and to train them to find other ways to provide for their families.
- A mission trip was taken to Southern Sudan where 1,046 patients were offered general medical and dental services.
- ELI Kipkaren Children’s Home has been constructed and serves as a refuge and a home for a total of 96 orphaned children.
- The Home-Based Care team continues to visit 25 HIV+ individuals to follow up on their medication adherence, their nutritional status and overall physical and emotional health.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Pure Religion
Much like an expectant mother prepares and waits for her unborn child, we in Kipkaren are preparing and waiting for 96 orphaned children to come and find a
refuge of hope and a place to call home. As a follower of Christ, I have been challenged that pure and undefiled religion before God is simply this: to care for orphans and widows in their trouble (James 1:27).
In Sub-Saharan Africa— where there are literally millions of orphans—the need for a response is overwhelming. And the reality of living in this community is to be confronted daily with these statistics in the form of children who are struggling to survive. They each have a name and a story of how life has left them without parents.
Nine-year-old Patrick was born to a single mother who died of AIDS-related complications. Because he, too, had been infected by the HIV virus,
his family rejected and abandoned him. About 4 months ago, a Good Samaritan found Patrick sleeping amongst bushes. He was very sick. Patrick was admitted to a local hospital where he continues to live, because there is no other place that is willing to accept him. I am anxiously awaiting the day when he gets to come to a home where he will be accepted and loved
as he is!
Recently, I was shocked by another story I read about in an article in a Kenyan newspaper. In a
town about an hour away from Kipkaren lives a grandmother whose 8 children and their spouses all died of AIDS, leaving this grandmother to care for her 37 grandchildren. The article explained that she owned very little land; therefore, she has been farming on the top of her children’s graves in order to feed the orphaned children. The grandmother was pleading for help. I thank God that in a few days her burden will be lightened as we’ll be able to take in some of her grandchildren.
There are also 2 little boys whose mother was a patient of our home-based care ministry when she
died last July. I remember the day I watched those kids bury their mother. I went home that night and journaled these words:
What did your little eyes see?
There were no tears today.
What did your little eyes see?
As your mama went away.
What did your broken hearts feel?
Were you just too scared to say?
What did your broken hearts feel?
As your mama went away.
Little eyes—I’ll cry for you;
Though I don’t know what to say.
Broken hearts—I’ll fight for you.
Because your mama went away.
I thank God that these two brothers will soon have an opportunity to go to school, to eat a balanced diet, and to grow up within a safe environment. These stories represent countless others that could be told; but for now, I ask you join me in praying for the Kipkaren Children’s Home. In the upcoming weeks, we will be receiving 96 children between the ages of 3-10 who are total orphans. There are big adjustments ahead for the entire staff as well as the children who will be coming. Please pray that in every single detail, God’s Spirit will lead in this journey of faith.
Sudan Update
This week, I received an email from Stephen Reech, director of Empowering Lives Sudan. “After your team’s visit to Sudan, the community came to share testimonies. Within 17 families, people were healed,” Stephen reported. “Abiei [a girl with cholera whom we took to the compound to treat] thanked God for what He had done for her. She said that the devil had a plan to kill her, and God’s plan was to send His people to rescue her from the devil. Abiei said that she had no faith in God before, but now she believes in God.” Praise be to God!
Stephen concluded his email by requesting continued prayer for peace in all of Sudan. Thank you for your continued prayers and support of this ministry in Southern Sudan.
Loving Much
It amazes me the number of times in the Bible, outcasts and people who were considered failures
were the ones to become the children of God. In fact, Jesus taught the religious leaders that the harlots and tax collectors would enter His Kingdom before they would.
On another occasion, when Jesus was invited to the home of a Pharisee for dinner, a prostitute lady came, and Jesus allowed her to come near to him. 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). And then he sent her away in peace.
I have often read that story but never with a face in mind of someone who is like this woman.
Right now, that is changing.
In April of 2005, while hosting an AIDS awareness campaign in Kipkaren, our home-based
care (HBC) team was sharing about the importance of HIV testing as well as making wise choices to prevent the further spread of HIV. A known prostitute from our community had come to the campaign and approached David Tarus, one of the directors of ELI Kenya. She grabbed his arm and, in Swahili, said these words, “I know that I am HIV+, and I don’t want to pass the virus to others. You are telling me to change, but this is the way I feed my children. Can you help me find another way?”
Over the past year, her plea for help has continued to be heard deep within our HBC team. We
have prayed for God to give us wisdom to know how to minister to this woman as well as to six other prostitutes from the Kipkaren area with whom we have been meeting. It has been a challenging journey, but God is leading us in the way to go. We meet together every Wednesday morning to encourage the women, to ask them what their dreams are, and to teach simple business skills and other life skills. This past Saturday, the women came for a Bible study and
then there was a time for their feet to be washed and their nails to be painted. One of the goals behind this ministry is that each of these women will begin to see that they are of value to God. As one of the women was having her feet washed, I walked into the room. She grabbed my
hand and said, “Juli, I will never forget this day!” Please join me in praying for these women.
Along with their children, they live very vulnerable lives. Please pray that God will show us practical ways to train and empower these women. It is only God that can deliver them, but I know that Jesus is waiting to receive them into His Kingdom.://
refuge of hope and a place to call home. As a follower of Christ, I have been challenged that pure and undefiled religion before God is simply this: to care for orphans and widows in their trouble (James 1:27).
In Sub-Saharan Africa— where there are literally millions of orphans—the need for a response is overwhelming. And the reality of living in this community is to be confronted daily with these statistics in the form of children who are struggling to survive. They each have a name and a story of how life has left them without parents.
Nine-year-old Patrick was born to a single mother who died of AIDS-related complications. Because he, too, had been infected by the HIV virus,
his family rejected and abandoned him. About 4 months ago, a Good Samaritan found Patrick sleeping amongst bushes. He was very sick. Patrick was admitted to a local hospital where he continues to live, because there is no other place that is willing to accept him. I am anxiously awaiting the day when he gets to come to a home where he will be accepted and loved
as he is!
Recently, I was shocked by another story I read about in an article in a Kenyan newspaper. In a
town about an hour away from Kipkaren lives a grandmother whose 8 children and their spouses all died of AIDS, leaving this grandmother to care for her 37 grandchildren. The article explained that she owned very little land; therefore, she has been farming on the top of her children’s graves in order to feed the orphaned children. The grandmother was pleading for help. I thank God that in a few days her burden will be lightened as we’ll be able to take in some of her grandchildren.
There are also 2 little boys whose mother was a patient of our home-based care ministry when she
died last July. I remember the day I watched those kids bury their mother. I went home that night and journaled these words:
What did your little eyes see?
There were no tears today.
What did your little eyes see?
As your mama went away.
What did your broken hearts feel?
Were you just too scared to say?
What did your broken hearts feel?
As your mama went away.
Little eyes—I’ll cry for you;
Though I don’t know what to say.
Broken hearts—I’ll fight for you.
Because your mama went away.
I thank God that these two brothers will soon have an opportunity to go to school, to eat a balanced diet, and to grow up within a safe environment. These stories represent countless others that could be told; but for now, I ask you join me in praying for the Kipkaren Children’s Home. In the upcoming weeks, we will be receiving 96 children between the ages of 3-10 who are total orphans. There are big adjustments ahead for the entire staff as well as the children who will be coming. Please pray that in every single detail, God’s Spirit will lead in this journey of faith.
Sudan Update
This week, I received an email from Stephen Reech, director of Empowering Lives Sudan. “After your team’s visit to Sudan, the community came to share testimonies. Within 17 families, people were healed,” Stephen reported. “Abiei [a girl with cholera whom we took to the compound to treat] thanked God for what He had done for her. She said that the devil had a plan to kill her, and God’s plan was to send His people to rescue her from the devil. Abiei said that she had no faith in God before, but now she believes in God.” Praise be to God!
Stephen concluded his email by requesting continued prayer for peace in all of Sudan. Thank you for your continued prayers and support of this ministry in Southern Sudan.
Loving Much
It amazes me the number of times in the Bible, outcasts and people who were considered failures
were the ones to become the children of God. In fact, Jesus taught the religious leaders that the harlots and tax collectors would enter His Kingdom before they would.
On another occasion, when Jesus was invited to the home of a Pharisee for dinner, a prostitute lady came, and Jesus allowed her to come near to him. 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). And then he sent her away in peace.
I have often read that story but never with a face in mind of someone who is like this woman.
Right now, that is changing.
In April of 2005, while hosting an AIDS awareness campaign in Kipkaren, our home-based
care (HBC) team was sharing about the importance of HIV testing as well as making wise choices to prevent the further spread of HIV. A known prostitute from our community had come to the campaign and approached David Tarus, one of the directors of ELI Kenya. She grabbed his arm and, in Swahili, said these words, “I know that I am HIV+, and I don’t want to pass the virus to others. You are telling me to change, but this is the way I feed my children. Can you help me find another way?”
Over the past year, her plea for help has continued to be heard deep within our HBC team. We
have prayed for God to give us wisdom to know how to minister to this woman as well as to six other prostitutes from the Kipkaren area with whom we have been meeting. It has been a challenging journey, but God is leading us in the way to go. We meet together every Wednesday morning to encourage the women, to ask them what their dreams are, and to teach simple business skills and other life skills. This past Saturday, the women came for a Bible study and
then there was a time for their feet to be washed and their nails to be painted. One of the goals behind this ministry is that each of these women will begin to see that they are of value to God. As one of the women was having her feet washed, I walked into the room. She grabbed my
hand and said, “Juli, I will never forget this day!” Please join me in praying for these women.
Along with their children, they live very vulnerable lives. Please pray that God will show us practical ways to train and empower these women. It is only God that can deliver them, but I know that Jesus is waiting to receive them into His Kingdom.://
Monday, May 15, 2006
A Future & A Hope...
“For I know the thoughts that I think towards you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all of your heart. I will be found by you, and I will bring you back from your captivity; I will gather you from all the nations…” (Jeremiah 29:11-14).
These verses are so often quoted, but as I listened to them within the setting of Kolmarek, Southern Sudan, I was struck again by the reality that these hope-filled promises were written to the Israelites as they entered 70 years of exile. And as I looked into the faces of my Sudanese friends, I saw that the promises of these verses have been clung to, waited upon, and are now being lived out. For 2 decades, they were in exile crying out to God for peace and justice to fill Sudan. They were praying that they might return home. Because of the war, many had been separated from their families, and they have been praying that they might be reunited. Over and over again, stories have been told of children being lost from their parents. For many, they are still waiting, still hoping to be reunited.
As these verses were being read, I could also see out the window of the church as 900 Southern Sudanese refugees were returning home. Men, women, children and animals were loaded into the back of open beded trucks. At the end of their journey lies a land they know as home. For years they have waited to return, but 20 years of war has left the land different than they remember. 20 years of war has left them different. Still they long to return.
So many of the struggles of life are impossible to understand and may not change within this life; but this past week, I witnessed again that God is close to the brokenhearted. He is faithful to His promise: if we will search for Him, He will be found. He is gathering these Sudanese from many lands and bringing them home, but I thank God that His ultimate promise is nothing more, nothing less than Himself. He alone is the future and the hope of Sudan.
The return to Sudan…
I am at a loss for words as I try to write about our team’s 6 days in Kolmarek, Southern Sudan. There are so many stories to be told, and there are no words to adequately describe the intensity of the journey or the emotions that were felt along the way. For sure, God’s favor and grace were experienced, and His provision led our way. He prepared the hearts of us who were going as well as the hearts of those we were going to serve. He granted us health and protection in all that we did. He allowed us to live amongst a community of survivors and to see glimpses of what life, within the Dinka culture, is like. Personally, He allowed my heart for the Dinka people and the ministry within Southern Sudan to grow larger than before.
It was an incredible blessing to be a part of this united team of 9 who traveled from Kenya to Sudan to serve the sick within the village of Kolmarek. Resources were limited and the climate was extremely harsh (120 degree days intermixed with torrential rain & wind); but with God as our strength, the mission remained clear. The partnership that developed with the Sudanese nationals who hosted us was equally wonderful. Without their assistance with translation and the countless other ways they served us, the mission would have been impossible. We held a mobile clinic in a local school for 4 days and treated 1046 patients with general medical and dental services. A majority of the patients were treated for preventable diseases related to food and water borne illnesses, worms, malaria, malnutrition, and an eye disease which leads to blindness known as trachoma.
I want to share the story of one of the patients we had the opportunity to care for. Her name is Abiei, and she is a 16 year old who was carried to the clinic on a mat. Like so many of the people in the community, Abiei and her family live as pastoralists in a cattle camp amongst thousands of cows. During the day, the cows range to get food; but in the evening, the cows and people gather together and sleep in the open air. The people survive by drinking the milk of their cattle. For generations, cattle camps have been a way of life for the Dinka people.
Due to contaminated water, there has recently been a cholera outbreak in different areas of Southern Sudan. Without intervention, cholera causes severe dysentery and eventually death. Upon arriving, it was reported that Abiei had been suffering from severe diarrhea and vomiting for several hours. Upon physical examination, it was clear that she was going into shock. Her extremities were ice cold and her blood pressure was no longer audible. We began to give her IV fluids to rehydrate her and monitored her very closely. At moments, it seemed that she was not going to make it. There was no place to refer her for more extensive treatment; and if our mobile clinic had not been there, there would have been no treatment for her. We, along with her family, cried out to God on her behalf and asked that He would spare her life and bring healing to her broken body. He did; and for the next four days, Abiei and her father lived with us as we continued treating her.
One of the first nights, she was critically sick and continued to have severe diarrhea and vomiting. Throughout the night, I was getting up every 2 hours to give her medication; and I had the privilege of watching Abiei’s father lovingly care for her. He cleaned her and comforted her in a way that I have rarely seen before. I thank God for sparing Abiei’s life and for allowing me to be a part of caring for her. I also thank God for the example of selfless love I witnessed through this father- it has touched my heart in a deep way.
Thank you for choosing to partner with me in this mission. Your prayers, your financial support helped to make this trip possible. There is no way to measure your investment’s worth; but by God’s grace, I watched the life of a 16 year old girl be spared and 1045 others helped. The need for ongoing community health work as well as basic medical services was deeply impressed within my heart. As ELI’s vision for ministry in Sudan continues to take shape, I am praying that God will raise up Sudanese nationals who speak Dinka to continue in this work. Please join me in praying for God’s will to be done in the health of these dear people and for peace to continue in the land of Sudan.
These verses are so often quoted, but as I listened to them within the setting of Kolmarek, Southern Sudan, I was struck again by the reality that these hope-filled promises were written to the Israelites as they entered 70 years of exile. And as I looked into the faces of my Sudanese friends, I saw that the promises of these verses have been clung to, waited upon, and are now being lived out. For 2 decades, they were in exile crying out to God for peace and justice to fill Sudan. They were praying that they might return home. Because of the war, many had been separated from their families, and they have been praying that they might be reunited. Over and over again, stories have been told of children being lost from their parents. For many, they are still waiting, still hoping to be reunited.
As these verses were being read, I could also see out the window of the church as 900 Southern Sudanese refugees were returning home. Men, women, children and animals were loaded into the back of open beded trucks. At the end of their journey lies a land they know as home. For years they have waited to return, but 20 years of war has left the land different than they remember. 20 years of war has left them different. Still they long to return.
So many of the struggles of life are impossible to understand and may not change within this life; but this past week, I witnessed again that God is close to the brokenhearted. He is faithful to His promise: if we will search for Him, He will be found. He is gathering these Sudanese from many lands and bringing them home, but I thank God that His ultimate promise is nothing more, nothing less than Himself. He alone is the future and the hope of Sudan.
The return to Sudan…
I am at a loss for words as I try to write about our team’s 6 days in Kolmarek, Southern Sudan. There are so many stories to be told, and there are no words to adequately describe the intensity of the journey or the emotions that were felt along the way. For sure, God’s favor and grace were experienced, and His provision led our way. He prepared the hearts of us who were going as well as the hearts of those we were going to serve. He granted us health and protection in all that we did. He allowed us to live amongst a community of survivors and to see glimpses of what life, within the Dinka culture, is like. Personally, He allowed my heart for the Dinka people and the ministry within Southern Sudan to grow larger than before.
It was an incredible blessing to be a part of this united team of 9 who traveled from Kenya to Sudan to serve the sick within the village of Kolmarek. Resources were limited and the climate was extremely harsh (120 degree days intermixed with torrential rain & wind); but with God as our strength, the mission remained clear. The partnership that developed with the Sudanese nationals who hosted us was equally wonderful. Without their assistance with translation and the countless other ways they served us, the mission would have been impossible. We held a mobile clinic in a local school for 4 days and treated 1046 patients with general medical and dental services. A majority of the patients were treated for preventable diseases related to food and water borne illnesses, worms, malaria, malnutrition, and an eye disease which leads to blindness known as trachoma.
I want to share the story of one of the patients we had the opportunity to care for. Her name is Abiei, and she is a 16 year old who was carried to the clinic on a mat. Like so many of the people in the community, Abiei and her family live as pastoralists in a cattle camp amongst thousands of cows. During the day, the cows range to get food; but in the evening, the cows and people gather together and sleep in the open air. The people survive by drinking the milk of their cattle. For generations, cattle camps have been a way of life for the Dinka people.
Due to contaminated water, there has recently been a cholera outbreak in different areas of Southern Sudan. Without intervention, cholera causes severe dysentery and eventually death. Upon arriving, it was reported that Abiei had been suffering from severe diarrhea and vomiting for several hours. Upon physical examination, it was clear that she was going into shock. Her extremities were ice cold and her blood pressure was no longer audible. We began to give her IV fluids to rehydrate her and monitored her very closely. At moments, it seemed that she was not going to make it. There was no place to refer her for more extensive treatment; and if our mobile clinic had not been there, there would have been no treatment for her. We, along with her family, cried out to God on her behalf and asked that He would spare her life and bring healing to her broken body. He did; and for the next four days, Abiei and her father lived with us as we continued treating her.
One of the first nights, she was critically sick and continued to have severe diarrhea and vomiting. Throughout the night, I was getting up every 2 hours to give her medication; and I had the privilege of watching Abiei’s father lovingly care for her. He cleaned her and comforted her in a way that I have rarely seen before. I thank God for sparing Abiei’s life and for allowing me to be a part of caring for her. I also thank God for the example of selfless love I witnessed through this father- it has touched my heart in a deep way.
Thank you for choosing to partner with me in this mission. Your prayers, your financial support helped to make this trip possible. There is no way to measure your investment’s worth; but by God’s grace, I watched the life of a 16 year old girl be spared and 1045 others helped. The need for ongoing community health work as well as basic medical services was deeply impressed within my heart. As ELI’s vision for ministry in Sudan continues to take shape, I am praying that God will raise up Sudanese nationals who speak Dinka to continue in this work. Please join me in praying for God’s will to be done in the health of these dear people and for peace to continue in the land of Sudan.
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