Monday, April 26, 2010

... For the Love of Africa ...


Hello my dear ones,

I know you've waited so long for an update, and I'll tell you why it's taken so long. There are so many details within each day that I struggle between whether I should give you the details that will make you fall in love with Africa too, or if I should consider the fact that some people might just scan over it if it's too long and miss the thrust of what I wanted to say. I decided to just write and see what happens. So it's kinda long, but these are still not all the intimate details i could have shared! If you have questions about a specific day, ask!

On my 19th birthday (march 18) our two week trip began. We flew from San Fransisco, California, for around 10 hours to Amsterdam, Holland (netherlands). We had close to a ten hour layover in Amsterdam which gave us the chance to go out of the airport and visit Fritz & Jacqueline's bookstore/ministry in the center of the city. They minister to the prostitutes in red light district. We ministered to Fritz & Jacqueline and some more people who work with them in this ministry. Some of us, including myself, had the chance to actually go out in the streets and minister to the prostitutes one on one. I got to step inside their window/rooms and talk with them and pray with them. (this is a good one to get more emotional details about!)

In the evening we went back to the airport and flew from Amsterdam to Nairobi, Kenya. From Nairobi we had a 7 hour drive through Kenyan countryside and villages to Bungoma. Bungoma is the city where Global Children's Movement (led by Jennifer Toledo) is located. This is where we were the first week of our mission trip.

And then BAM the very next day we were thrown into the 'mission life'.... we went in groups of two to 8 different churches to preach Sunday morning. I got to go with my leader Andy Mason, which was special. First we taught the children, and then preached at the main service. When we went into the church during worship time and I was thrust into real African worship setting, I couldn't keep myself from crying. This is where i realized full force God has made my dreams come true. This is what I DREAMED about since I was only seven years old - going to Kenya. African worship is beautiful. It's a unique experience you can't get anywhere else... and cd's would not capture the feeling of how it feels to be inside a building that's almost shaking with the intensity of their pure worship. They even started dancing for us! When the time to preach came, I spoke about how when God created you, he created dreams in your heart. And you need to pursue them, because your dreams are God's dreams. My message really spoke to the pastor's wife, who came and hugged/thanked me after the service. 

After church, we got 4 children from each church our team had been to, to come over for lunch and afternoon. We fed them, and then taught them that they are princes and princesses in God's kingdom. Then we taught/demonstrated how to heal the sick and raise the dead. We took all these newly taught children of God and went to the local hospital in the city to pray. Many people got healed. One man who was paralized from the neck all the way down his body from a spinal injury, by the end he was sitting up and absolutely filled with joy! There were so many testimonies that came out of these few hours of praying in the hospital!

On Monday was street boys day. They were supposed to come at 10, but the pastors picking them up were having trouble with convincing the government that they could come to our mission base. People warned us not to do this event with the street boys, as they're dangerous and just not worth the risk. How wrong they were! While we waited all morning, we had a worship service and declared freedom in the land. We also felt led to take communion together. However, we didn't have wine, juice, or bread in the house. So we each took our water bottles and used that as the wine, and Joylyn (our leader from the Kenya side) got out a homemade tortilla which we broke and passed around the circle. 

We all really felt that all this was in preparation for the boys.... because when the boys came there was absolutely NO problem with them. We had 40 boys that were picked up from the streets of Bungoma. In the beginning we had a teaching session with them. We performed a drama that really touched them, a drama introducing Jesus as the friend who trades their anger for peace, their sadness for joy, their fear for love. Annabelle asked all who wanted to meet Jesus and give their life to him to stand up. Some stood immediately. One by one, more stood up until almost everyone was standing. I could tell by the seriousness on their faces that they were comprehending. We led them in a prayer of accepting Jesus as their saviour, and receiving the Holy Spirit. We had them repeat after us that Jesus was always with them... Jesus saw them in each situation and they could turn to him for help, etc. And then we just went around the boys, laying our hands on their heads, praying blessing and protection for them. It was a very real, touching moment for all of us and all of them. These boys have gone through and still go through a lot more than any of you or I ever have. I'll talk about some of these details more on the Wednesday update.

Afterward, we had lunch, and games and activities. I played soccer with them! I felt like I was "speaking their love language" just by my playing with them for hours.

On Tuesday morning we went to the hospital again, although this time it was just us, not the kids.

Tuesday morning and afternoon we had a pastors conference (there was supposed to be 75 pastors, but only around 25 to 30 showed up due to another pastors event in the city). It was so good connecting with pastors of Bungoma and just ministering to them, refreshing them, and teaching them how to prophesy and things like that. They really learned well. We had good practice in praying for healing when one of the pastor's brothers came in who'd been in an accident last night. He was limping because he'd hurt his leg, and couldn't move his right arm, and was depressed. When we got finished praying, he was able to walk without limping, he could bend his arm up and down AND wiggle his fingers and clasp a handshake. AND.... he said his heart felt light and joyful... no more feeling depressed! Glory to Jesus! Every person we prayed for at this meeting got healed (about ten people or so)

Wednesday was our day off, to refresh and relax before heading to uncivilized territory-- the Turkana Desert. We spent this day out in Bungoma finding an internet cafe, shopping a little, and eating at a nice restaurant. This day was in particular hard for me, because as we walked along the street, instantly many of the street boys we had been with found us. Some of them still wore their burger king crowns that we'd crowned them with, and were still wearing their new shirts we gave each of them. That was touching. I had hoped these precious things they'd received would not get stolen from them. It was so hard sitting in the restaurant where no street boys were allowed into. As I got my food from the table near the open door, I could the gaze of the hungry boys as they saw what I took and didn't take from the buffet. And then I sat down, and I sat where they were fully in my view if I looked up. As I ate my food, they looked and kept looking. But, not being able to fill their own hungry stomachs, they slipped out their glue bottles and took a loooong deep whiff of it. That's their drug. They carry nearly empty glue bottles behind their shirt or behind their sleeves and sniff it because it drugs down their feelings of hunger and cold and exhaustion. They hide it behind their shirts because most white people get mad at them for doing this and try taking their bottle away. One of my friends, Sunneye, bought a mango for herself in the market. Out in the market, the boys were a flock around us, and one of them desperately wanted her mango. He wanted it so badly he bit into it through the plastic bag, so Sunneye just gave it to him. And then ALLLLLL the boys wanted it and fought for it. The mostly uneaten mango soon lay trampled on the dirt street.

On Thursday the second week of our mission began. We flew to Turkana by small jet. When we arrived, the 'airport' was merely a little roof under which we ran for cover from the rain when we landed. The runway itself was bumpy and it was muddy all around. Welcome to Turkana. 

Every day in Turkana was a unique adventure, but the worst of it was our first immediate experience. There was a river we had to cross, and there was no bridge. Twenty minutes before we got here, there had been no water pouring over this road, and now there was a strong current that was like knee to mid-thigh deep, flowing over the road. It was a pretty wide river. Waiting another ten minutes would have completely made it impossible to cross so we had to act fast. The van's engine had to be turned off so the water wouldn't fry the motor, so the village boys had to push us across the river (we couldn't help because the weight in the van was what kept us from washing into the river). It was slow but steady going until we got closer to the middle, where it was the deepest and strongest current. The boys stopped pushing and just maintained our position a while as they bolstered up their strength to get us through the worst part. We were all praying hard and calling on Jesus for strength and that we'd get across without being washed into the river. When the boys began pushing us again, we immediately hit the strong current, and the van aimed for the edge! I had the window seat on the side where I could see how close the van was getting to the edge of the road, and it was pretty much the scariest moment of my life! My heart pounding  300 km/p/h, I was like "Jesus! Jesus! Help us Jesus!" The van was faster moving toward being washed into the river than it was moving forward for a while! Somehow by God's grace, the boys were able to keep us from washing away (we got about 3 ft from the 'waterfall at the worst point and we had started like 8 to 12 ft away) and we got across safely! Pastor Wilson, our Turkanan connection and pastor, said he'd never crossed such a dangerous river before and he said he'd never try this again! So if even the Kenyans say this, then it's not just the inexperience of white people. haha.

On that first day we settled into our guesthouse, where we were surprised to find two showers after all! And even electricity. That was not what we'd expected - we all expected to have to take baths with wet wipes, so this was luxury. Then we went to the IDP Camp (Internal Displaced People... people from within Kenya who no longer have homes due to tribal wars and fires). We did the drama for them, and then we prayed for healing individually. We also had a medical station where we cleaned wounds, checked their heartbeats, gave certain medication for certain things, etc. It was really cool how some people got healed before getting to the medical station, others got their medication there, etc. But prayer they all got. Almost every woman in Turkana wants prayer for her head/forehead, back, and chest/collarbone because that whole bone system in them is in pain from carrying heavy loads on their heads their entire life, starting at around age 7. Many that I prayed for said that this pain either lessened or completely disappeared. I really enjoy praying for Turkanans... they receive so willingly, because getting healed really is their only option because they can't afford the hospital. 

Friday was meant to be a bush drop day, but we were unable to get to the villages where Pastor Wilson had planned to take us because of the rain and not being able to cross another river. So he took us to another village closer to Kakuma (which is the name of the little town where our guest house was). This village was 20 km into the desert past the IDP camp. Story of this village: Pastor village came there, and prayed for healing for the witch doctor. When the witch doctor got healed, he gave his life to Jesus! As a result, the entire village gave their lives to Jesus! So Pastor Wilson built a church there, a little mud building with a dirt floor.

When we arrived at this church we heard the clapping and cheering even before we had parked! We parked quite a distance from the church (like 200 yards or so), but as soon as we came to a stop, the mud hut erupted in loud African singing and dancing! The mud building had basically no windows, so we still coudn't really see anything. But as we got closer, we could see into the door how they were dancing and singing in celebration of our arrival and worshiping Jesus. My heart almost stopped when I stepped into the door. This place was literallyvibrating with their worship. Everyone was dancing/jumping. They were all singing at the TOP of their lungs and clapping their hands. They were smiling and tears ran down some of their faces. They are soooo in love with Jesus! And they know how to honour Him! It was in this moment once again where I got emotional about God fulfilling my 13 years of dreaming about coming to Kenya one day and worshiping with the Kenyan bride of Christ. One of the most beautiful things I've experienced... And you see, these weren't just black Kenyans... these were the most traditional, tribal people... many of them only wearing a scarf tied around their body... the women wearing hundreds of colourful beaded necklaces up their neck, barefoot, etc... (you can look at my pictures on facebook)

Our time with this precious church was however cut short when we saw a dark blue sheet of rain coming our way across the desert! Quickly we ran to the vans and brought them the food we had brought, and then we jumped into the two vans and started for home. My van load of people had a head start, but the minute we began driving it was already pouring! We kept driving for almost ten minutes, just swerving and hydroplaning over a thick sheet of water on the red clay desert. The second van, however, didn't even get that far. Their vehicle had to be push-started and it was too stuck in the mud to push-start! When they did get it started, they immediately got stuck again, so they had to walk the entire way home. MY van however, got further because we hydroplaned at full speed for a while. But when our driver slowed down, we right away sank into the mud, stuck. That was the start of hours of pushing the van, driving a bit, and then pushing it another twenty minutes. In the midst of all our pushing the van through slick, deep, clay mud, some tribal children from nearby villages curiously joined us. It must have been exciting watching these mzungus (white people) get dirty with their mud! (Some of these children were completely naked.) African children, whether in Bungoma or in Turkana or out in the villages, they all LOVE the camera! Which is really nice because that's better than having to hide the camera like we have to do from the adults. The adults in Turkana believe that taking photos of them captures their spirit (not the saved ones, they've been freed from this fear). At last, we gave up pushing the van and walked the rest of the way home (2 more km). Pastor Wilson had called a rescue vehicle an hour or so ago, and when we were almost to the IDP camp, the vehicle came. So 18 people fit onto that little Land Rover! Many crammed inside, a bunch on the roof, and several hanging from the back. haha. We were covered in red mud from head to toe, and cleaning up took the entire evening, as this very evening the showers and sinks produced no water!

On Saturday we did a more normal/planned bush drop. We went to a village where we split into smaller groups and went hut-to-hut handing out food and praying for the families. There were almost no men in the village I was in, because the men are out working, either herding goats or working in town. Their homes consisted of three small mud/straw huts. One hut is the sleeping quarters for mom n dad, one hut without a roof is like the kitchen or living area, and the third hut I think is the children's bedroom. The three huts form a semicircle, and in the centre is a fire pit. The women sit on the ground to cook. The first home we got to was the leader of the village. Her husband, too was out to work. She was an old woman with the hundreds of beaded necklaces (the more they have the higher value or important they are, which raises the dowry price). I also met a girl here who got saved in a village hours away, at the age of 8. Her parents were angry about her decision and beat her up daily for it. When she prayed for sick animals, they always got well, so the villagers would always bring their sick or dying animals and they would become well. Then they started bringing her their sick children and when she prayed for them, same results. So at age 13-16 she began a church. Her parents/the tribal leaders were angry about this so they sent her to a village far far away from home... which was this place where I was. She is now 25-26 years old (she doesn't know for sure)

The second home we went to, there was another very very old woman who was very blind with cataracts and could only make out shapes (see light and dark). When she said yes we could pray for her, she sat down on the stoney, thorny ground. I sat down with her, and held her hand and placed one of my hands over her eyes. I declared clarity into her eyes. I declared that she would be able to watch her grandchildren grow up and see the smiles on their faces. I declared that she would see the grass grow in this desert as the rains came to heal the land. When I finished praying, she looked up. Now, for the first time she was able to focus on my eyes! I could feel how now she was seeing me, which she had not before! She looked down at our clasped hands. When the translater asked, "what are you seeing" she replied, "She's white!" She looked back up into my eyes and gazed at me, leaning closer as if completely in awe at seeing a white person's face. Then she gazed down at our clasped hands again. Back and forth like that. It was a very precious moment for me, and I have a picture of it on Facebook. I will never forgot that moment!

On Sunday we split up into groups again to preach at three different churches. Andy (my leader) and I went to the Refugee Camp new church plant. This refugee camp has 70,000 people from all over Africa; mainly Sudan, Rwanda, Burundi, Ethiopia, and Uganda. The church was small, a new plant, but it was really fun preaching to them. Once again, my message to them was to keep dreaming, because God wants to fulfill their dreams! Imagine what that does in the heart of a refugee who has completely given up on their dreams! That thought made me come alive as I spoke. Afterward, by Andy's 'command' I pulled out three people from the audience to prophesy over from the pulpit. That was scary because when I picked them out I had basically NO idea yet what I would say. The first one happened to be the pastor's wife of this church. The second one was the one I remember the most. She was an elderly lady named Esther, and I told her she was like the biblical Esther who would save her people and be super-important in bringing freedom to the refugees. The third one was the pastor's daughter who was maybe 7 years old. She's going to be known in her generation as one who is full of abundant life, and her children will not have to go through the very hard things that she has gone through. Her life will be one of hope and refreshing, and she is the start of a new generation who will not have to suffer the way she did. 

In the afternoon on Sunday we went to the small Turkanan hospital in Kakuma to pray. Afterward was pretty fun running up the hill to the HUGE cement water tank. We danced on top and attracted villager from north, south, east and west to gather at the bottom to watch! Was great!

Very early Monday (like 5 am) we left Turkana to wait at the river to cross again. After waiting an hour or two, we decided that this isn't going to work, so we walked across! The boys carried our luggage across and then came  back to escort us girls across. Walking felt a whole lot safer actually than driving that first time. In the river was an upside down car from last night, they'd washed over and 2 people died. But God is good and we were safe!

We flew to Nairobi. We stayed there that night, and the next day we went on a safari and went shopping at the Masai Market. And then we from back to Amsterdam, to San Fransisco!!!! We arrived back in Redding on Wednesday. 

Our trip was fun, adventurous, challenging, and life-changing! It was always give give give receive. Give give give give some more, and then receive. Now that I'm back I have to learn to adjust to not constantly be giving out, and actually relax, receive, and just sit and enjoy life in a country that's not as warm, loving, or relational. I definitely plan to go back!!!!! After 13 years of dreaming of going to Kenya, one short little two week trip to Kenya is not the fulfillment, but the start of a dream come true for me.

Thank you SOOO much for keeping me and my team in your prayers. I have really appreciated it, and I've told my team out there when we needed to hear it, that I have people praying every day of my trip! I often thought of the fact, today someone is praying for me. So thank you. I needed it. My testimonies are now your testimonies, because you took part in making my trip successful. 

Please see my pictures of the trip (I was the official photographer) on FaceBook. The albums are called: Getting There, Bungoma, Street Boys Day, Turkana, and Safari/Nairobi.