Letter to Lillian

A little over a year ago I was in the Westgate Mall in Nairobi .  I remember eating lunch at the Artcaffe, one of my very favorite cafes in Nairobi.  I went there after church with one of the missionary couples on staff with Rafiki.  I remember being in the Nakumatt grocery store.  I remember thinking this was probably one of the nicest malls I've ever been in - Kenyan, American or otherwise.  I remember thinking what a startling contrast this mall was to the rest of Kenya, all pristine and modern, while you walked out the door and down the road and found tin roof shacks and red clay roads.   

And now it's a war zone, the focal point of the world. 

When I first saw the headlines this past Saturday morning, I was in the middle of a work event I was coordinating.  I was scrolling through the list on my phone when I saw a headline that simply indicated a mall in Nairobi had been attacked.  I began to frantically scroll through the article, searching for which mall, knowing that there were ones frequented by the Rafiki staff, wondering if I knew anybody involved and wondering if they were safe.  It wasn't until I got to the very bottom that it finally said Westgate. 

And it's that striking moment when you realize, "I was right there..."  I can see the stores in my head and I can see the Kenyan people enjoying the bakery and I can see the security at the entrance and I can see the neatly polished floors and I can smell the freshly roasted coffee.

If I were there now I would see shattered windows, blackened walls from grenades exploding, faces hiding, trembling in the shadows and mad men on a mission to destroy.  

I want to grieve and I want to get angry all at the same time.  Because it's just such utter nonsense and pure evil.  

And on the heels of the attack, I get a sweet letter today in the mail from Lillian, the little girl I sponsor in Kenya.  And I found the contrasts overwhelming, just like when I stood in the Westgate Mall and marveled at the disparity of what I was looking at versus what I knew existed just beyond its walls.  And here in light of watching this attack unfold, I get this precious letter from an equally precious little child.  

How do I reconcile that?  How do I reconcile a world so full of hate and outright evil with love notes from a young orphan child who thanks me for sending her a postcard with a polar bear on it?  Because when I put the two side-by-side, I just think, "How? How do we go from arms flung wide and praying blessings over lives to grenades in hand and raining down curses on humanity? How?"

I want to write back to little Lilian.  I want to write her a long letter, one full of things she simply cannot understand at such a tender age.  Full of things even I don't understand.  

I want to tell her that Satan is real and he has an agenda.

I want to tell her that his number one goal is to end her life and the lives of others - spiritually and physically.  Jesus said it himself in John 8:44, "He was a murderer from the beginning."  

I want to tell her that Satan will stop at nothing to destroy lives, destroy homes, destroy governments, destroy creation, destroy marriages, destroy relationships.  It's all fair game and he's playing for keeps.

I want to tell her that we are most certainly waging war, but not against this flesh and not against another country and not against another people group and not against another government.  We are waging war "against the rulers, against the authorities, against the spiritual forces of evil..." (Ephesians 6:12)

But what I really want to tell her is this - 

Don't lose hope, dear one.  Don't lose hope.  

Don't drown in the sadness and don't drown in the depravity of this great big mess called humanity.  Hold tight to Jesus Christ, the one who firmly claims that he will swallow up death forever (Isaiah 25:8).  

He will claim victory. He will defeat Satan.  And this world will be a passing memory.  "You will have trouble in this world.  But take heart! I have overcome the world."  (John 16:33)

Take heart, little Lilian!  Jesus Christ, the Lamb slain before the foundation of the world, has overcome the world.  

Take heart. 

Merry Christmas from Kenya

Dear Auntie,

God gave His Son Jesus Christ so that we may have eternal life.

You gave sacrificially so that I may be raised on Rafiki Village Kenya.

Thank you for sponsoring me.  I wish you a happy Christmas.   Madam helped to look for a Christmas card with African angels.  Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn King!

I think you have snow.  We have sunshine here.

Happy Christmas again.

Yours sincerely,

Lilian

Yes, indeed, Lilian.  God gave his son Jesus Christ, a baby who grew to be a man and would give his life for the whole wide world.  A man who wrapped his arms around all of humanity and said, "I AM the answer to every question you've ever had.  I AM all that you've been searching for.  I AM all that you've ever longed for.  I AM the great I AM.  Don't miss it."

And yes, we do have snow here.  :)

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)

Just One Request

As I was watching Peter one day, I was amazed at how he took the time to say hello to each one of the children or to sit down with them and ask them how their day is.  There are a lot of other things he could be doing.  He is on the maintenance staff here so gutters need to be cleaned and repaired, roofs need fixed, trim needs painted, and the list goes on.  But Peter sets those things aside so that he can get down on the same level as the kids, look them in the eye, and genuinely care about them.

But you want to know what's really amazing about Peter?

He's an orphan.

Just like the kids that he stoops down to talk to, he has no parents.  And so he takes the time to let each of them know that even if he or she doesn't have parents, they at least have a few minutes with him and they have his undivided attention.

It's stunning to realize in that moment, watching him, here was proof of the sovereignty and grace of God for here is an orphan helping influence the next generation of orphans.  And I imagine there will be a day when these Rafiki orphans will turn and reach out to other orphans.    

There are others here on staff that are likewise orphans, and here they are working at an orphanage, investing in the lives of 91 young Kenyan children who once upon a time had no hope.

You see, Rafiki is committed to making a difference in the lives of orphans, both young and old, in ten different countries scattered throughout the continent of Africa.  They firmly believe in raising these children in their native country, teaching them their native language in addition to English, and equipping them so that they can give back to their own countries.  I think sometimes it's easy for us to think in America that we can just slap a band-aid on something to fix it, or in the case of these children, we may want to just remove them from their country all together, bring them to America, teach them our culture, our ways, and send them to our schools.  There certainly is a time and a place for that, but one of the chief reasons why I gladly stand behind Rafiki's vision is that they do not allow their children to be adopted.  They are not simply removed from the situation.  They are equipped in the midst of it.  Their own countries need them to be godly leaders and students more than America or other countries need them to be godly leaders and students.

But why do I say all that?  Because I want you know that what Rafiki is doing, what God is doing through Rafiki, matters.  It matters a great deal.  It matters to the people who work here, the native Kenyans, the long-term overseas staff, the children, people from the community who come and go from the village.

I'm not the kind of person to ask anyone for help normally.  I get a little too self-sufficient and self-reliant for my own good (I'm working on it).  But in this case, I have one request and in this situation, I'll unashamedly ask:  Help.  Not in a desperate HELP! sort of way, just help.  Schools and cottages need to be built as more and more children are brought into the fold, children need sponsors, volunteers are requested to come and to labor alongside those who are already here.  The villages don't run on air, good intentions, and imaginary labor.  But I want to be sure to say this too - I'm not here to appeal to pity and I'm not here to appeal to guilt.  This isn't about feeling sorry for these children.  God is working here and he has been faithful to carry each of the children to their respective villages and he will be faithful to carry them unto the end.  He can do it without you and he can do it without me.

But why not jump into the fray of it all and get your hands dirty a little bit and find out just how big our God is?

There are several ways to get on board and help out.  One, you can sponsor a child, which entails monthly financial support.  You can obtain more information at Rafiki's Sponsor page or you can call the Home Office at 352.483.9131.  I know for a fact that Lilian (pictured left with Clint trying to make her smile by pulling her cheeks back), who is just three years old and just arrived here in the village a couple of months ago does not have a sponsor.  You could help be the first.

Two, you can come.  Come to Africa.  Doesn't matter if it's Kenya or another Rafiki village in Africa.  Just come.  Have construction skills and knowledge?  Come build a new school for them.  Come build some new cottages.  Want to teach little ones on up to high-school aged students?  Come teach for awhile.  Come love on some kids, even if for a couple of weeks.  You can obtain more information about the short-term trips here.    For other ways to give, you can go here and see a complete list.

It doesn't matter how big or small - could be $10 or $10,000.  Could be 2 weeks here or two months here.  Could be 1 child sponsored or 10 children sponsored.  Could be 1 square foot of space provided for, could be 100 square feet.  Whatever it is, whatever prayers offered, it matters.          

Join Peter in raising up the next generation of godly leaders, not because they are orphans, but because they are humans, God's children, and we are responsible to them simply because of that very fact.