The Faces of Redemption

They had names like "Stepping Stones," "Annex," and "Nursery," the names of places where they were abandoned by their mothers, left with the hope that someone else would care for them.  Police found them wandering the streets or living with grandparents already burdened by too many mouths to feed.

They had mothers who had died of tuberculosis, were raped by strangers, were murdered by fathers, were displaced by political unrest and turmoil, with other family members unable to pick up the pieces of what seemed some very broken little lives. 

They had been forgotten by a world that seemingly didn't want or need them, a world that didn't care.

Had.  Past tense.

Those same children now have names like Esther, Abel, Blessed, Grace, Elijah, Lilian, Enoch, Michael, Rose.

Those same children now have "mothers" who give so sacrificially, relying on a strength that is not their own, with nearly 100 children they now call sons and daughters and raise as their own blood. 

Those same children have not been forgotten by the world.  They are wanted.  They are needed.

Have.  Present tense.

The children I encounter every day are living proof - living proof that there is a God who redeems, a God who restores, a God who takes the brokenness of this world and sets it aright.  These children are not victims.  They may have a heritage of darkness.  They may wake up in the middle of the night screaming from the nightmares, reliving some of the atrocities they have witnessed with their own eyes.  The sadness may overwhelm them some days.  But that past will not define them.

Because redemption never leaves us where we were.

These children have been redeemed from situations many of us cannot fathom.  But God in his infinite mercy and grace has given them beauty for ashes, a garment of praise for their heaviness. 

Lilian is one of those faces of redemption.  She is the little girl I sponsor here in Kenya.  She was born a twin, but they were separated at birth.  Her mother abandoned her to an aunt, but her aunt would die herself just a few short months later.  Lilian was found alone in the home, severely malnourished.  She survived under the care of a few people in the local village, but she eventually found her way home to the Rafiki Village Kenya.  When I was here two years ago, she had just arrived a few weeks before.  I think she barely said two words to me, or anyone, for that matter.  She toddled around, the new village plaything.

And now - present tense - she doesn't stop singing.  Even if no one is listening or paying attention, it seems I always find her singing.  Just tonight I went for a walk and I caught up with her and some of the other girls from her cottage.  I think she asked a question for every stride she took.  She is healthy, smart, and clever.

And redeemed.

"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you. I've called your name. You're mine. When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you. When you're in rough waters, you will not go down. When you're between a rock and a hard place, it won't be a dead end— Because I am God, your personal God, The Holy of Israel, your Savior. I paid a huge price for you: all of Egypt, with rich Cush and Seba thrown in! That's how much you mean to me! That's how much I love you! I'd sell off the whole world to get you back, trade the creation just for you." Isaiah 43:1-4 (MSG)