Praise God

After being back in America for over a month, I look back to Kenya and the amazing things God taught me about himself and this world through my experiences there. Every day, I pray for those in Kenya, and it is wonderful to know that they also are praying for me. I pray for Vincent and Abigael, for Benta and Josephat … dozens of names flit through my mind as I picture the face or each person I met in Kenya.

“To him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Ephesians 3:20

A prayer for those in Kenya:

Father God, I praise you that you gave me the opportunity to go all the way to Kisii, Kenya, to meet the people that I met there. I thank you for their generosity and hospitality to me while I was there.
I pray that you would bless them with good health and everything that they need.
I pray that those who are blessed materially would find room in their heart to give to this ministry so that both giver and receiver would be blessed.
I pray that you would keep the hearts of all those in Kenya entirely devoted to you, and bring to yourself those who do not know you or have turned away from you.
May you bless them materially so that they would be able to bring into their loving fold any orphans who come looking for shelter. Fill each of the children there with your comfort, wisdom, and joy.
May the children, as orphans brought into loving homes, serve as a witness of the love God shows in adopting us and bringing us into his family.
Keep them all from all evil and forgive all their sins, showering them with your abundant grace.
May your church in Kenya prosper and may its people always be faithful to you.
Keep teaching me through my experience in Kenya and my contact with the people there,
O Lord. In the name of Jesus Christ, who is worthy of all praise, Amen.

Kenya: the most beautiful, friendly country in the world

“Kenya is the most beautiful and friendly country in the world.” My host confidently informed me as I stepped into cab during my first few minutes in Africa.

The first statement was confirmed during the 7 hour bus ride to the small town of Kisii, where I spent my two weeks volunteering at Mercy Gate Champion Children’s home. When I envisioned Kenya, I imagined the dry tundra depicted in “The Lion King.” Certainly, there was grassland with huge cacti, person-sized vultures and grazing zebras, but there were also flourishing forested regions, distant blue mountains, and rolling green hills. The towns are flickers of color, sound, and movement.

Kenyans love wearing and painting things bright, primary colors, gorgeous on their dark skin. Goats are tied everywhere, as varied in color and patterns of fur as the African clothes. Donkeys pull carts past women carrying bags of carrots their heads and children on their backs, motor bikes room by; a man pushes a bag of peanuts against the window of the beeping bus saying something in Swahili; teenage girls sit cross-legged on bright blankets covered with cabbages, cloth, fish, cell phones, or bananas for sale; corn crackles as it is roasted over charcoal fires on the corner.

The friendliness was also soon evident, as everyone I passed greeted me with “Jambo, Salama, Hello, or Bwakire/Bwairire Buya,” and a handshake. I found my few words of Swahili and Ekegusii (the tribal language), though insufficient, invaluable. Everyone is friendly, and eager to talk to me with whatever English they know.

I may not have the authority to say this, because I have never been anywhere except the US and Kenya, yet the person who told me had never left Kenya either: “Kenya is the most beautiful and friendly country in the world.”

Kids

Kids are kids, wherever they are in the world, however many toys they have, whatever language they speak. The fist day I walked into the small dark room where about 20 kids aged 3 to 15 were sitting, they were shy and didn’t understand my English greetings.

But they loved the balloons and candy I gave them the first day, and loved playing elbow tag, a new game I taught them. By the second day, they were all shaking my hand goodbye, giving me high fives, and wishing me a good night at the end of the day.

There were many tears along with the laughter and good-bye songs on my last day with the children. I miss them all very much.

What rhymes with Zed?

I had many different expectations before going to Kenya. Some were fulfilled, others were not. The house I stayed at had no running water, electricity, ovens or toilets. Yet, they had cell phones, which rung often and never lost reception. The mixture of primitive life style and 21st century technology was sometimes disconcerting.

During their free time, the people sing, or listen to preaching and song on the radio. Gathering at church services, revival meetings, or just at the house, the people, adults and kids, sing praises to God with all their hearts and bodies. While American kids like singing as quickly as possible, Kenyans tend to sing slower, clapping and dancing to their deep, melodious sounds.

Here’s “Our God is Good” in Swahili:
Mungu U mwema
Mungu U mwema
Mungu U mwema
U mwema Kwangu

They also know many English praise songs. In teaching them a Christian ABC song, I learned yet another difference between Americans and Kenyans. The last few lines go: “V and W: God has promised you, X Y Z: a home eternally.” But the Kenyan children all enthusiastically ended: ex, why, ZED!” Even their English alphabet is different! I have yet to find a line that ends with –ed to end the song.

The color of plucked kuku

The kids I met in Kisii, Kenya this summer rarely see white people. Passing by on the walk to the Mercy Gate Champion Children’s home, children, goats, and mothers, at the side of the road stare wide-eyed.
“Hello, how are you?” They yell, practicing their English.
“Very good, thank you” I answer, waving, “How are you?”
“We’re fine!” And then burst into giggles.

Benta is a five-year-old AIDS orphan in the care of my hosts, Vincent and Abigael. Like most children, she speaks primarily Swahili and their tribal language Ekegusii. One day, I decided to teach her colors in English.
“Sky, blue; flower, red; wall, white…”
She pressed her dirty brown forefinger into my pale arm.
“What color?”
“White,” I say, hesitatingly.
“Aa (no),” She shakes her head disapprovingly, “not white.”

That night, I carried a live kuku (laying hen) home for dinner, my hands pressed clasped around its bony wings, the hot avian blood coursing through the veins under my fingers. A few hours later, we all sat around the small coffee table in the cottage, pulling feathers out of the partially boiled animal. “Amy!” Benta jumped up, her shadow bouncing in the light of the kerosene lamp, “your color.” I held my hand against the skin of the chicken. Yes, I am the color of plucked kuku.

God’s Plan

One great thing about God is you can trust he know what he’s doing. When the election threw Kenya into a short period of political turmoil right before my intended journey to Nairobi last January, and I had to cancel the trip, I was confused. What could God be doing? Didn’t he want me to go to Kenya. Yes, but not in January, and not to Nairobi. God wanted me in Kisii this summer, in the hospitable hands of Vincent and Abigael and their children, biological and fostered. Praise God for their wonderful work with the orphans in Kisii, in the service of Jesus Christ.

James 1:27: “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” These people and their ministry clearly demonstrate this. In Kisii, a society primitive by American standards, I saw how polluted by the world I, as a privileged American student, have become. Oh Lord, keep me from becoming polluted by the world, and help me to look after the orphans just as Vincent and Abigael do.