Oh the Suffering in this world...

As I write this it is Thursday, July 16th – but I have no way of predicting when I will be able to actually post it on my blog. Internet has been down for days now (no access since leaving the Dubai airport), which makes me feel truly cut off from the world I am most comfortable with. No skyping, no emailing, no facebooking, no connecting. God is only allowing me to connect with what is in front of me, forcing me to do so. And what is in front of me is suffering people.
So my journey is now taking me down a dusty, dry, long, parched road – for these days in Kenya while I am away from home and from family.
(Amazingly, I have internet for this moment - thank you God.)
But I am safe, healthy, and holding (clinging) to God’s promises. “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall.” Psalm 55:22 (I’m righteous only because of Christ in me.)

Today I went into Kibera slums – the largest slum in Africa. It is a world within itself. A planet apart from our world yet on this same earth. Urine, feces, and children all ran freely in its alleys and trails (notice I did not say streets). As I followed my guide to the home we were going to visit – I felt eyes on me and I knew they were wondering, “What is the mazungu doing here?” But no harm came my way. I just kept my eyes on the path in front of me, partially to avoid eye contact and partially to avoid stepping in human waste. We wove throughout the shacks, the multitude of smells was overwhelming, a bridge had been made out of car fenders – a bridge to give passage over a river of waste. And children ran barefoot – in this place they call home. We finally came to the home we were to visit. A new baby had been born – and we were coming to bring gifts and pray blessings over the child. We climbed the tiniest, narrow, winding set of stairs I have EVER seen, and stepped into their home. It was tiny but amazingly clean. Being on a second level, it did not have to endure the many things that would undoubtedly come dribbling down if it had been on the ground level. We greeted a dear mother, and a loving father who worked to prepared us a cup of Kenyan tea. Yes – I have taken tea and eggs in Kibera Slum. As you certainly know, there is arguably not a “cleaner” person in the world (except perhaps my mother). And yet, I am most mindful of the path God has me on. Did I want to go in the slums – truthfully no. Would I rather be home with my dear Steve – most definitely yes. In NO way have I choreographed these steps I am now taking on my path. But I trust the one who is leading me and I question Him enough and then wait for His answers, to be certain of His map for me. Therefore I sit in one of the filthiest places on earth, sip tea, love the ones in front of me, and pray.
So I held the beautiful baby – Haran. Healthy, loved, and completely unaware of the world he has been born into – as well as the world that is beyond the confines of the slum. And I measured the weight in my heart as I tried to ponder – why God would bring a child into a place such as this. And what I hear Him say to me in my heart is, “My ways are higher than your ways…” God does not need comfort or even cleanliness to be very present! For He most certainly was wonderfully present in the room where I held this new child and prayed.
And I will go there to see Him.
After our time was finished, I then was taken to a preschool in the slum. A tiny room (about 12x20) that held 38 gorgeous 2 and 3 year old children. Children who just 6 months ago had roamed the streets of Kibera during the day. This tiny, God-loving church built with dirt, wooden sticks, and rusty tin has begun a preschool for them. They were packed inside the dark, dirt floor classroom, and seemed to actually find comfort and security in the close quarters. They sang and sang and sang – of Jesus’ love for them and theirs for Him. They know too well what the face of evil looks like, they have felt the fury of its impact – and so even at their young age, they desperately and beautifully embrace the goodness of our God. Perhaps they cling to the Savior more intensely than we do – oh how they must please Jehovah. As they looked at their white, clean, well fed visitor, they smiled so brightly and laughed from their bellies when the Mazungu couldn’t follow their words correctly. I saw Jesus in their faces.
The pastor pointed out to me the children that were double orphans (both parents dead). When I asked where they “lived”, he explained that they live here and there and rely on the kindness of those around them to clothe and feed them. And each day, they somehow find their way to the wooden door of their dirt floor classroom. He directed my attention to the little girl who’s mother had just died and whose father now struggled to work and care for her. He showed me the child who is crippled and the one who is mentally impaired. He explained to me that many of the children are used in the late evenings to deliver drugs and return with the money. THEY’RE THREE YEARS OLD! Oh the suffering! Oh the pain! Oh the injustice!
And so more than ever I wanted to hear that trumpet sound – I wanted to see Jesus in the clouds coming with bands of angels. I didn’t want to see Him in the faces of these children anymore – I wanted it to all be over. The suffering is too intense to bear.

I cried today – so hard – I thought I might break something on the inside. Seeing the suffering, missing my Steve, smelling the ugliness of evil did break something inside me and I “leaked” in the breaking.

God’s response --- “look into my eyes”.
“I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:13-14