Church was good today. The sun was hot on the iron sheet roof of the church in Kibos this morning. It is on our land, next to the rehabilitation centre, where we look after some of our children. The church was established pretty well 8 years ago this week, at Easter 2002. As we entered, the morning teaching session was in full swing, Hezbon had a blackboard and was sharing on praise, and how we should always praise, even in difficult times.
And my goodness, do these people know difficult times.
It's so easy to sit back and say how much we have compared to them, how much we take for granted compared to those who have none. It's easy to sit here and condemn the corruption in the government that means that international funds don't always get to the people who need it. But in the end who will make a difference if we don't. What is the point of being a light in the world, if we never go to places where there is darkness.
I shared a message from Mark 1:14-20. Jesus called ordinary people to follow him. Simon, Andrew, James, John. They were just ordinary guys who dropped out of school and learned the family trade.
But Jesus believed in them. He chose them to be his disciples, not some well schooled graduates of Rabbi college, but 4 fishermen. And he told them to follow him. To come after him. Even then, at the start of his ministry, he knew he was going away. And he wanted those who would follow him. To be his hands and his feet, to go to difficult places, to go where he would have gone.
Jesus believed in them, believed that they could be like him, believed that they could fill in when he wasn't around any more.
And for the people of Kibos and the kids on the streets of Kisumu, God has the same call - "I believe in you". You may have dropped out of school, you may not think you can be anything in life, but "I believe in you".
Whilst we are so busy feeling guilty for what we haven't done for God, kids are sat on the streets needing food, people are going back to their homes empty, with tears in their eyes, with sadness in their hearts. "and he will turn their mourning into laughter?"
We need to get the message to them - that God believes in them, and in all they can be.
And then we sang. Moses played his guitar and we sang and we danced and we celebrated all that Christ had done in our lives. We sang in Swahili and in English and then we sang in Luo. I didn't understand much, but I sang just the same. Because all around me people with nothing lifted their hands and their voices in praise and worship to the one person who has faith in them, the one who is a light in the darkness. And the ones who sang the loudest were the men of Kachok.
Kachok is the location of the city's rubbish dump. It is also home and workplace to far too many street boys, who eke out an existence picking amongst the rubbish for things that can be recycled or sold. The tiny money they earn is enough for some little food for the day. We started an outreach program in Kachok about 5 or 6 years ago. We have helped many boys off the tip, but there are many still there. And a number of them catch a bus to Kibos church every Sunday, to worship and to fellowship at our church. And they sing the loudest, they worship with their whole hearts, because they have found someone who loves them, someone who believes in them, someone to give them hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11).
After church we shared food. Chapati and green grams and rice.
Too soon the day is done, the rains came, lightening and thunder crashed around and the roads turned to rivers of red African mud.
Pity those sleeping out tonight.
Mark 1:16-20
16As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 17"Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." 18At once they left their nets and followed him.
19When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. 20Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.
Sunday 28 March 2010
Friday 26 March 2010
Beginnings
I am sat in a crowded internet cafe in Nairobi, catching up on emails and passing the day before Julie, Kate and Hil arrive tomorrow. We have a fun morning planned, visting the Sheldrick elephant orphanage and then Giraffe manor, before heading back to the airport for our flight to Kisumu.
I hadn't even heard of Kisumu 10 years ago. Then a friend, Nicky, said that she had been told of a Kenyan minister, who I got to know as James, and his wife, Sabina, who were in the UK with another charity - Skills for Living, raising awareness of the problem of street children in Kenya. She aksed If would go along with her an meet up with them.
I told her I would go and listen, but that I didn't feel called to start an orphanage.
Later that year we found ourselves on a small Kenya airways twin prop from Nairobi to Kisumu, to see with our own eyes what James and Sabina had told us about. We spent an emotional week, meeting the youngest of children who had lost their parents and now supported themselves and their younger brothers and sisters, children who were missing out on an education because they couldn't afford the fees or uniforms. We met so many children in so many desperate situations, that much of the week was spent with tears not far from our eyes.
But the day that changed my life was on the city rubbish tip. Hundreds of children made a living by sorting through the rubbish, finding what they could recycle and selling it for a few shillings. Often the younger ones would have that little money taken from them by gang leaders with self preservation in their minds. Children as young as 5 or 6, fighting off the effects of cold and fear by sniffing glue from small plastic bottles provided by the older ones, messing up their brains and missing out on life. It was heartbreaking stuff.
There was no way we would see that and walk away. No chance. We resolved there and then that we would do something. We didn't know what that would be, we knew it was a massive commitment of our funds and our work, but if we could help give just one of those kids an education, a family, hope, then it would be worth it.
I read a lovely story of a little girl, walking along a beach with her mum after a storm. Along the beach, washed up on the sand, were hundreds of starfish, stranded by the tide, drying out in the sun. the little girl went up to one, picked it up and placed it carefully back in the water. Her mum said to her to stop, that the couldn't possibly make much of a difference to all of the starfish on the beach. The girl replied, well maybe not to all of them, but it makes a difference to this one.
Over the last 10 years we have helped a few starfish into the water. We set up a charity, The Isaiah Trust, dedicated to helping and supporting street children. The Trust now runs 3 small centres for the children and a number of outreach programs to help and support them where they live. We care for over 60 children full time either in our centres in Kibos, Mamboleo and Kitale, in home resettlement programs or in foster homes, provide training for another ten or twelve and education for more than 100 children from the poorest slums.
From humble beginnings.
So tomorrow, Julie, Hil and Kate arrive, and next week, Phil (Nicky's husband), Tom and Emma. Nicky is gutted that she can't be here herself, but since she was last here in January she has been really unwell and had to undergo surgery for a problem which goes back a number of years. Though she is recovering, she has been advised that she can't yet travel.
So I am here instead, looking forward to Kisumu, to seeing Moses (who runs the operations) and Tatu, his wife. And of course, all of our children. The last time I was here was August, with my wife, Pam and our son, Harry. I am missing them already, but excited to be here with my extended family.
It is good to see God at work amongst the poor, the hungry and the naked. And more than a privilege to be a part of it.
Isaiah 58:
"Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
For me and for Nicky, that sun-scorched land is Kenya and the banks of Lake Victoria around Kisumu. Tomorrow with the elephants and giraffes will be fun. But the real Africa needs a bit more looking for.
www.theisaiahtrust.org
I hadn't even heard of Kisumu 10 years ago. Then a friend, Nicky, said that she had been told of a Kenyan minister, who I got to know as James, and his wife, Sabina, who were in the UK with another charity - Skills for Living, raising awareness of the problem of street children in Kenya. She aksed If would go along with her an meet up with them.
I told her I would go and listen, but that I didn't feel called to start an orphanage.
Later that year we found ourselves on a small Kenya airways twin prop from Nairobi to Kisumu, to see with our own eyes what James and Sabina had told us about. We spent an emotional week, meeting the youngest of children who had lost their parents and now supported themselves and their younger brothers and sisters, children who were missing out on an education because they couldn't afford the fees or uniforms. We met so many children in so many desperate situations, that much of the week was spent with tears not far from our eyes.
But the day that changed my life was on the city rubbish tip. Hundreds of children made a living by sorting through the rubbish, finding what they could recycle and selling it for a few shillings. Often the younger ones would have that little money taken from them by gang leaders with self preservation in their minds. Children as young as 5 or 6, fighting off the effects of cold and fear by sniffing glue from small plastic bottles provided by the older ones, messing up their brains and missing out on life. It was heartbreaking stuff.
There was no way we would see that and walk away. No chance. We resolved there and then that we would do something. We didn't know what that would be, we knew it was a massive commitment of our funds and our work, but if we could help give just one of those kids an education, a family, hope, then it would be worth it.
I read a lovely story of a little girl, walking along a beach with her mum after a storm. Along the beach, washed up on the sand, were hundreds of starfish, stranded by the tide, drying out in the sun. the little girl went up to one, picked it up and placed it carefully back in the water. Her mum said to her to stop, that the couldn't possibly make much of a difference to all of the starfish on the beach. The girl replied, well maybe not to all of them, but it makes a difference to this one.
Over the last 10 years we have helped a few starfish into the water. We set up a charity, The Isaiah Trust, dedicated to helping and supporting street children. The Trust now runs 3 small centres for the children and a number of outreach programs to help and support them where they live. We care for over 60 children full time either in our centres in Kibos, Mamboleo and Kitale, in home resettlement programs or in foster homes, provide training for another ten or twelve and education for more than 100 children from the poorest slums.
From humble beginnings.
So tomorrow, Julie, Hil and Kate arrive, and next week, Phil (Nicky's husband), Tom and Emma. Nicky is gutted that she can't be here herself, but since she was last here in January she has been really unwell and had to undergo surgery for a problem which goes back a number of years. Though she is recovering, she has been advised that she can't yet travel.
So I am here instead, looking forward to Kisumu, to seeing Moses (who runs the operations) and Tatu, his wife. And of course, all of our children. The last time I was here was August, with my wife, Pam and our son, Harry. I am missing them already, but excited to be here with my extended family.
It is good to see God at work amongst the poor, the hungry and the naked. And more than a privilege to be a part of it.
Isaiah 58:
"Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.
9 Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
"If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
For me and for Nicky, that sun-scorched land is Kenya and the banks of Lake Victoria around Kisumu. Tomorrow with the elephants and giraffes will be fun. But the real Africa needs a bit more looking for.
www.theisaiahtrust.org
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