Monday, August 24, 2015

Asante Sana


Dear Family and Friends,    
    I have been back in the States for nearly three weeks and it has been such a busy, crazy yet good time of transition- thank you for praying! I meant to get this out sooner but the time has not allowed me to find words that I feel best articulated my experience and were worthy of being shared.

     The ten weeks I spent in Kenya this summer where profoundly life changing. Living in Africa has always been a dream of mine and something that had been on my mind, but I didn’t dare hope that it was actually realistic in this stage of my life. But because of your generous help and God’s incredible hand, it was not just realistic but something that came into fruition. And let me tell you, it was everything I dreamed of and more. I don’t use those words because they are petty and are what everyone wants to hear, but during my ten weeks I discovered more evidently what the Lord had designed me to do. The passions and gifts He has woven into my very being were made evident and I felt fulfillment like I have never felt before. It felt so natural to be in that environment and I saw how so many seasons of my life had prepared and led me here. This does not mean that everyday was easy and fun, but everyday was worth it.

     Through this, the Lord
very clearly confirmed my call to missions on the African continent and gave me peace to follow and trust Him in the next steps to come- even in this next season when I am not in Africa any longer.

     The people I met took me in right away. They challenged me and inspired me in my own faith. They live in the midst of brokenness, poverty and injustice yet cling to hope, faith and joy. They rely completely on community and their    hospitality is genuine and selfless.

     While we were there, I was on a leadership team that helped lead 5 short term teams to the different ministries we partner with. Kenya is primarily Christian already so  we were more supporting the existing ministries that are established there. I like to think of it like in the Bible story found in Exodus 17 where the Israelites were fighting the  Amalekites. As long as Moses had his arms raised, the Israelites would be winning, but once he lowered them they would start losing the battle. Verse 12-13 says, “When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword.” (emphasis mine). I feel like our teams this summer were called to be Aaron and Hur. To be the people that hold up the arms of these ministries who are in the midst of battle day after day. 


     This meant a lot of encouragement and support, but an anchoring passage for me that I used as my focus was Romans 12:15, which says, “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” To sit with the people, build relationships and come alongside them. To “do life” by their side. To rejoice in the good and cry with them in the midst of the struggles and hardships they were facing. To be the heart of God, in the flesh and love them unconditionally.  

     Of course, we visited orphaned children at Little Lambs Daycare, and played with school kids at Southern Cross Academy (a school), and let the students at a school for deaf children know that they had value. They have so little yet find joy and excitement in each day and as we spent time with them all we just wanted to let them know that they are seen and they are loved. In our broken Swahili phrases we learned we would try to tell them “Mungu anakupenda” (God loves you) or “Ninakupenda” (I love you!). 



     They are extremely precious and now have deep corners of my heart, but I found during my ten weeks that as much as I love the kids and my love for children is what led me to Africa,  the Lord was just using that as a stepping to stone to reveal to me a different call in my life. Because
of a series of events I gained a heart for vulnerable young women. There are many things the Lord used to awaken this call in my life, but there were two things in particular that I want to share with you that revealed my heart for these women. 

     First off, my favorite ministry we partnered with was at Rift Valley Fellowship at their women’s Bible Study called Women of Courage. Many of the women who attended were outcasts, prostitutes...very broken, vulnerable women. Our time together always started in singing songs together and though they sang in their own language, you could see the genuineness and feel the presence of God as they poured out their hearts in worship and breathed in His grace and joy. The first visit we made they started singing “Amazing Grace” in Swahili and I just stood breathless in awe and wonder at our God. Afterwards they shared their heart so openly with us. We would in return offer words of encouragement, and share our own struggles and that we too needed a God of grace in our own sin filled, broken lives. I loved those women as they embraced us like sisters and granddaughters. 

     The second thing that sparked a passion was an encounter I had outside of our normal ministry days. On a day off a few people I was with heard about a woman up the hill who could use some visitors and love. Come to find out, she was attending the Bible College we were staying at the year before when she was raped and left pregnant...with twins. When we visited her she told us how her family rejected her and this kind woman took her in but she is from a different tribe than the one of her surroundings so she felt out-casted. The four month twin girls were the cutest things and as I held them I had a contrast of heartbreak and joy in their little lives. She is now trying to return to school to finish her education but lacks the funds. 21 years old, with two babies, trying to finish her college degree. My heart was gripped. I tried to visit her as much as I could but the road was far and I could never venture it alone. I pray for her and that the Lord will provide funds for her to return to school, as I am unable to assist in that way right now.
 
    This woman had my heart so deeply that I became passionate about fighting for women like her, because the sad truth is that her story is not uncommon. Our mountain side town overlooked the valley that has the main highway that runs all the way through Kenya in it. At night you see the truck lights going by. The sad part is that that highway is labeled as “HIV highway” because of the rampant prostitution, human trafficking and victimized women.

     There are many more stories I could share at a different time, but I see though, that there is a huge connection with all the different areas that make me passionate and how I don’t have to deny the children if I choose to work with the women instead.  Vulnerable women, vulnerable children, their kids becoming orphans, them having aged out of orphanages, etc. I don’t know what the next steps look like, but I’m trusting the Lord to continue to lead me on this journey.

    Again, I just want to thank you so very much for your support to in this whole process. My summer has shaped the trajectory of my whole life and that is something that I'm grateful for. I saw the hand of God orchestrating Kingdom work, but He used you as an instrument in making that all happen, and I do not take that lightly. The friendships I made with the Kenyans are deep and special, ones I plan on maintaining. It's true that I left part of my heart in Kenya, and I think about those people everyday. I'd jump on a plane tomorrow if I could. I'm absolutely captivated.

Would you continue praying for them and the things they face everyday?
For the ministries who work so hard every single day to help all they can?
For the Women of Courage who are fighting giants that we can't even imagine?
For a scared lonely mom with two babies that depend on her for life?
For all the tiny hands that passed through ours who are orphaned, culnerable, trapped in a cycle of poverty and do not even have the hope to follow their dreams?

And that the Lord would continue to guide and shape my heart as I look forward to what He has called me to?

Asante Sana // Thank you!!

Leslie Walker








Wednesday, August 12, 2015

When I Found Grace in the Valley


Last semester I picked up on Ann Voskamp's expression, "All is grace" and really began noticing what that actually meant. I've always been told that grace means getting something we do not deserve. Like the redemption from Jesus going to the cross. Grace. Everyday. Waking to new mercies and a new day. Grace. In the air we breath. Grace. It is in the sweet words from a friend, in the beauty of the flowers, in the hardships that bring us humbly to our Father. Grace.

And then I moved to Kenya. 

The Lord used my time in Kenya to unveil to me even more how sweet the sound of grace is. Everywhere we went, redemption and grace shone. In the ministries, in the stories and in the people we met. When we quite literally sang "Amazing Grace" with women who had found themselves in prostitution but have come and tasted the freedom and lavishing love of our Savior. I mention all the time about the brokenness, death and injustice...but in that there are so many stories of redemption.
I can't even put into words how empowering it is to see the grace to evident. People might wonder how I can say there is so much beauty in the brokenness. But it is in the joy that the people choose even when all else is falling apart. The smiles, laughter and big hugs. It is in the faith they depend their whole life on. It is in the simplicity that the Gospel is, yet the earth-shaking power it has.

Since I don't feel like my words are very worthy of sharing, and since I cannot take you all to Kenya, I will share this video of a woman that one of our Love Africa staff members made...
This woman's name is quite literally Grace and she is the Vice-chairman of the IDP camp we visit. This woman is a rock and her testimony is huge. She use to have a nice shop she ran, a town and stable place to raise her family...but when the 2007 elections happened and she did not vote for who her neighbors voted for, she was chased from her home with just the clothes on her back. Now this community is displaced and in the midst of poverty. I've hugged this woman's neck and been encouraged by her words for weeks. Now I'll let you meet her (it's worth your time):

Grace's story here. 

And you know what, she tells us how she has forgiven the people that burned her home and killed her friends...because of the grace that was shown to her on the cross, she extends that grace to even her enemies. 


In Kenya there are the infamous acacia trees (or "Africa trees").
Three things I did not know about these trees before Kenya:
1. there are a couple different type of acacia trees
2. they have huge huge huge detrimental thorns on them
3. their thorns were believed to be used for the crown of thorns Jesus had on the cross

Having seen these thorns, I'm blown away imagining that made into a crown and placed on Jesus' head. They are huge and sharp (I mean I don't know what I had in mind when I use to think of the crown of thorns, like I knew it wasn't a wreath of cotton) but these thorns put things into perspective in a whole new way. Also, you should also know that acacia trees (especially these "Yellow Barked Acacia's") were everywhere we went. And to me, it became another way that God made His grace so visible. Every time I saw the thorns I thought of the cross and the brutal sacrifice of our Savior. He took on these thorns so we would not have to. 

Amazing grace.
 
Above I said how it is hard to sometimes understand how to see the beauty and grace in broken situations but I think about these thorns. These thorns are harsh, sharp, I even called them detrimental before and they caused blood shed, which is messy - I think of that as the brokenness, hardship, messy, detrimental things in life. But these thorns also scream grace to me. I see a Savior. I also see how life can come from death.

And here we are, back at the Gospel. That simple yet earth-shattering Gospel I mentioned. Because the Gospel is grace. And the Gospel and grace should be infused into our every day and every movement. Because what else do we have to live for? And having just spent 10 weeks surrounded by poverty, I know in confidence that when all else fades, and you lose everything else...the Gospel remains.

And it is calling you and me, the richest and poorest. It is never too far from anyone. Or as I've found from 22 years of living in the midst of Christianity, too close (in the sense that we speak and hear of it so often that we take it for granted or forget to the power of it).

Grace abounds and all is grace. So friends, walk in grace today.

For by grace you have been saved through faith.
And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.
– Ephesians 2:8, ESV


Monday, August 10, 2015

What to make of 10 weeks in Kenya

This time last week I was on my way to the airport in Nairobi. The flight home was long and draining but I also appreciate the time of transition to help me recognize that something is changing. The past 7 days have been crazy and fun and hard and fast. I came back to the 75 yr old house I just started renting with five other of my college best friends. I made a spontaneous trip down to South Georgia to spend the weekend with my grandparents, which was much needed. I've cuddled friends, unpacked most my room, watched TV, grabbed fast food, cried a little and mostly ignored the fact that I'm not in Kenya.

People have asked me how I am doing, and I tell them I am doing well. Because I really am. Yes, leaving was so so so hard, and I miss my friends and life in Kenya. There are times I'm in a funny mood and there are the little things that remind me of the place I left my heart. Or maybe the reality just has not caught up with me yet.
But God. But God has been so gracious in this transition. I have been filled with a peace and I have come to terms that this is where I am called to be right now. This next year, senior year, holds to much- some good and some hard.
When I got to Kenya I kept saying "words are hard", because they were. And again I say that as I transition back to the States. It is hard to find the right words to sum up all I did and saw. Many things I encounter transcend stories, experiences or photos. But words are coming...slowly...but they are indeed coming.

So here I am today, with a cup of not-quite-Kenyan-but-close-enough chai ready to untangle my thoughts of my 10 weeks in Kenya.
Grace and patience as I work through this please.


10 weeks in Kenya. Looking back I realize how big of a dream it was that I wasn't bold enough to dream so God literally just put it in my lap for me. It makes sense why I had to abandon my first set of Love Africa applications my sophomore year, because if I hadn't I would have only be in Kenya for 2 weeks last January and the life changing summer I just experienced wouldn't be what it was.
I also got so quickly thrown in that I barely had time to realize all I was getting myself into, and had I known, I probably would have backed out because I wasn't looking at what God was capable of doing, but only what I was (or wasn't) capable of doing.

It was a lot to take in at first. New Core team, new culture, new pace of life. With that came having to learn how to trust on God in new ways, find new found confidence and strength. But the people instantly took us in. Karibu is Kiswahili for welcome, and probably the most commonly heard word that first week. The Kenyans love deeply and freely. They put Southern hospitality to shame. And despite having so little they will welcome you into their home and put forth their best cup of chai and chapati that they can. Combine this with their contagious joy and it is hard not to fall in love with them. They love visitors and even though there is a language barrier, they love just being together. Just being.


Time moves slowly in Kenya. No one really seems to be in a rush, which is refreshing yet frustrating at times. American hustle and bustle stresses me out and so I loved stepping away from that for a moment.

Not only do the Kenyans love us so freely but it comes from a place of loving their God so unconditionally. Being in Kenya for 10 weeks taught me so much more about my God, faith, trust in Him and grace upon grace than I could imagine. My view of God was shattered as I realized I had put Him in such a box. In Kenya God is in and through everything...or maybe it is that there are less hindrances and distractions from Him. They trust in Him in all things. They praise Him in the good times and the bad. And worship. Unhindered, un-time bound, pure and desperate worship. Gathering with the Kenyans at church each Sunday and watching as they came before their God. It was different than so many churches I have been to in my years but I found it so beautiful in its' own way. And I know that the world is big, yet the God has it ALL in His grasp, but standing with my Kenyan brothers and sisters while they pray in different languages and I udder things in English- yet God hears and sees it all...I just stand in awe of how very big our God is. Every hand I held, face I passed, voice I heard- God knows them...intimately. When my heart loves a child, I think of how much greater their Creator loves them, and as my heart breaks with the unthinkable circumstances and poverty, again how much greater does their Father grieve with them.

One of the verses I picked up as my guide for the summer was Romans 12:15: "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." As I was called to love and sit and just be with those people, I got to know their hearts and I was able to rejoice with them as they praised their God and celebrated the good things. But I also had many moments where I was able to mourn with them as the hard times did come. I recognize that me swooping into Kenya, I can't save them all and I can physically do very little (and if I could, it's not about being their savior, but rather pointing them to their Savior)- but I have the ability to encourage and journey with them. 

For example after getting to know the story and hearts of the people at the Inter-displaced Person's Camp I could do just that. These people have been living in the same tents the U.N. gave them...in 2007! But just this year, they have begun constructing tin houses. If I had just walked up to this place and seen these "houses" I would have, frankly, called them shacks. But after the relationship was formed I was taken in their home and I can, with honesty, say "this is so so good". They take so much pride in that little tin box and they see it as nothing but a blessing (whereas we see a house as a right). I can rejoice with them as they see the Lord's favor in providing something better than what they had. 


You can see the old tent to the right vs. a new home on the left

Because Kenya did just that. It changed my perspective. I grew up in a 3rd world country, yet I lived there as a child. I was just an observer through childish eyes. Yes, I learned so much and my world-view grew tremendously...but this summer I saw the third world first hand as an adult. And it made all the difference. I've taken classes in college about poverty or missions and I've thought about Africa for years. But to be in the middle of it day after day for 81 days- it changes things. It brings up questions you've never thought of before. It reveals so much of things in your own life, like your selfishness, ignorance, how much you do or don't trust God, all you take for granted, among other things. And most of all...it gives you faces and names. Anna, Mary, Grace, Rahab, Kevin, Patrick, Ann, Candy...all these little ones have seen more in their young years than I ever will. And with their stories and with their eyes my world changes. I want to run and hide and pretend that awful things don't happen and poverty is not a reality, but when I realize that it is I can't hide anymore. I have to be passionate and stand up for these kids because if I didn't I would be doing them a disgrace and the last 10 weeks would be in vain. I can't ignore the vicious and heartbreaking cycle of prostitution because Naomi. Because Jane. Because of the little girls at Lulu's Place safe house. 
There is so much more out there in the world. 
So much more brokenness that people deny exists. 
And so much more beauty that people forfeit knowing. 

I have found that for 81 days I was surrounded by brokenness.
But for 81 days I was surrounded about redemption, grace, beauty and hope...and that made every hard moment more than worth it. 

I have so much more I could say but I'm going to start breaking down my thoughts into individual blog posts so this does not become outrageously long. Thanks for hanging in there with me. 
Love to all. 



Thursday, August 6, 2015

Glimpses of Kenya

I'm home!
And processing everything, journaling and preparing some blogs for your enjoyment. But a picture is worth 1,000 words right? And since I don't have many words quite yet, I'll let the pictures do the talking for now.
Chai time after church in Namuncha

The Women of Courage Bible Study ladies

Sisters

Love me some Love

Desks we built for Souther Cross Academy

Handing over supplies to the head teacher

Lunch under an acacia tree

Rose

Grace

Snack time: fresh picked and boiled maize

Baby Joy

"Downtown" Kijabe

Little Lambs

Rahab


Kevin

Tender friendships - tender goodbyes