Dear Sean

Sean,

I can’t even begin to describe what you mean to me.  I know we’ve only known each other a semester, but in that time, you’ve become more than a brother to me.  I know we are technically brothers in Shawreth, but way before that, your friendship meant so much more to me.  From the fact that I was a terrible active in Rush (from Snapchat to that scary moment we were eating at Pimentos and Wagner walked in) to after Rush when I spent half my life in your room, I’ve enjoyed it all.  From rapping Lecrae in the middle of Walmart, to wasting our lives away on Sporcle, to me living in that weird chair in your room (yes that is my chair-I’ve claimed it), to laughing our heads off at Jase’s 4AM delirium modes, to Chemistry and the loveliness that was Dr. Magers (“where are the coasters?”), to our mutual love for the epicness that is Beyonce and Katy Perry, to the fact that you got to be my ST family grand-little, to most importantly, our talks about the Lord and what He’s doing in our lives, you have become one of my closest friends.  There is so much more hilariousness that is still to come, and I literally cannot wait.  Buddy, I don’t think you understand what an impact you’ve made on so many people.  If you could only see the love outpouring over Social Media from MC and your friends and family back home and the call for prayer, you would be amazed.  You seriously have thousands of people praying for you, and because of the life you’ve lived for Christ thus far, you are portraying His glory to the nations.  Sean, you are a vessel of the one true King.  You have encouraged me in my walk by the way you’ve lived your life and the way you interact with people.  I don’t know a person who hasn’t enjoyed spending time with you.  Buddy, you are strong-willed (probably too much sometimes), and I know you have the strength to keep pushing.  Our God is a God of miracles.  There is nothing that He cannot do.  I know that He can heal you, and in a few months you’ll be dancing harder than ever before.  Sean, you are one of my closest friends, and I want so bad just to drive up to Birmingham right now, but I can’t.  However, know that I am constantly praying for you.  I pray Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16 over you and your family...

The one who lives under the protection of the Most High dwells in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

Because you have made the Lord—my refuge, the Most High—your dwelling place,

No harm will come to you; No plague will come near your tent. 

For He will give His angels orders concerning you, to protect you in all your ways.

They will support you with their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the young lion and the serpent.

Because he is lovingly devoted to Me, I will deliver him;
I will protect him because he knows My Name.

When he calls out to Me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble.
I will rescue him and give him honor. I will satisfy him with a long life and show him My salvation.

I love you buddy.  Stay awesome.

-Sam

Kenya-Finishing Empty

I'm home in Memphis.  I have Air-Conditioning.  I have clean water.  It's weird.  I'm glad to be home, but I miss Kenya so much.  God did so much in my life the past almost two months.  So take a few minutes and read what God did as I travelled around with a mission team my last week there.  Thank you for keeping me in your prayers all this time.  God moved mightily and continues to move in this great country/continent.

Monday (Kitale)

My heart hurts.  The tears flowed freely tonight as my insides were breaking.  At the end of devotion time, Hellen got up and prayed.  There is no way I can describe this prayer.  The ferventness, the realness, the belief.  The Spirit of the Lord came down and was with us.  I literally had to turn around and hold my nose to keep from losing it completely.  Then she asked me to speak.  I had to take about 60 seconds to pull myself together.  I poured out my heart to them.  And then it was time to say goodbye.  The tears returned as I hugged Delmas, Susan, Reuben, Cynthia, and so many, many more I’ve grown so close to.  And until we hit the main road (about ten minutes), I silently cried.  And as we hit the main road, I looked up and saw the stars.  The heavens declare God’s glory.  He planned the universe in utter detail.  The stars were a visual representation of Him being with me in that moment.  He held me when I couldn’t hold myself.  He carried me.  It was one of the hardest things ever to say goodbye to these friends I’ve grown to love with all my heart.  But He helped me.  Why?  Because He is good.  He cares for His own.  

Wednesday (Eldoret)

Today we visited the Kamkunji slum.  It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.  Most were very small mud houses the size of a normal bathroom with a mattress on the dirt ground.  Completely dark.  And I can’t even describe the smells.  I have never seen so much trash before.  Half naked kids.  No shoes.  And this is safer and more developed than Kipsongo, where my buddies are from.  How do I deal with this?  How do I continue to live with this in mind?  How?  But God is moving.  Let me tell you the story of Richard.  Richard has bad epilepsy, and one time, he had a spell and fell into fire burning himself.  I saw his burnt flesh.  His scars.  My eyes have never seen anything like it.  It reminded me of a kid in Kitale.  I noticed this kid would keep one hand out of my sight.  But at one point, I still saw it.  It had been infested with jiggers.  They had eaten away all his fingernails and parts of his fingers.  It was absolutely unbelievable.  Richard’s burnt flesh was hard to bear, but then later we heard the full story.  That for a long time, because of his injuries, he could hardly walk.  It would cause too much pain if he stood straight.  But today, he held onto my hand as hard as he could as we walked normally.  God has healed this boy.  And is continuing to heal him.  He would not let go of my hand.  I’ve never had anyone hold on so tightly.  This kid is an outstanding example of God’s work.  When we don’t realize it, He is still there.  When He seems the farthest away, it is then that He is right there.  And He is a God of change.  Everywhere I go, I see pain and sorrow, but so much more, I see and hear stories of change and grace.  People are not the same and that can only be ascribed to Him.  

Thursday (Kisii)

A kid in a yellow shirt came and sat next to me.  “What is your name?” “Sahmwell.” “Mine is Anton.”  As the conversation went on, he asked me about my family and my parents.  I pointed to my mom and dad.  Then he said, “My mom and dad are both dead, so I have no parents.”  My heart broke.  This kid is in Class 4 and already taking care of himself.  But he is so happy and smart.  He is going to church for help and learning every Sunday.  And the others looked up to him.  His life has been changed under the hardest circumstances.  No matter how hard things get here, there is always hope.  I have a God who WANTS children to come to Him.  He cares for them with kind words and says their faith is all you need.  Anton has hope in His Savior and Him alone, because there is no hope anywhere else.  Anywhere else comes with pain and sorrow.  And even though it may not be easy, that hope keeps him going.  It is not always peachy living for Christ.  It was never meant to be.  But because He IS the HOPE of glory, life is worth living.

Saturday (Nairobi)

Home.  Where everything is at my fingertips.  Where life is no longer simple.  Where extravagance reigns.  I don’t know if I’m ready.  I thought I was, but apparently I’m not.  Today, we stopped on the way to  Nairobi as a Naku-Matt for water for the team.  Well this one was part of a mall.  I walked in, not prepared for what my eyes were about to see.  It was like I was in Times Square looking around.  Everything around me was so modernized, extravagant and commercialized.  My heart started beating fast, and I was not able to take it all in.  I have been living in the dirt and grime of Kenya for so long that I was shocked to see the extravagance that surrounded me.  In Naku-Matt, I started feeling claustrophobic.  I was almost brought to me knees in the middle of a Kenyan supermarket.  Everywhere I looked, all I could see was a malnourished child searching the dump for food or the lifeless face of someone dying of curable diseases.  How is this modernized mall of toilet money so active of rich white people when people all around me everywhere I’ve been the last 7 weeks have been suffering.  Can’t this money go to something better?  We have GOT to stop living in complete and utter extravagance when all around the world, people are suffering.  We’re Americans and it’s nature to have “more.”  But extravagance is ridiculous.  I can’t even begin to count the amount of t-shirts in my dresser.  I shudder to think about it as I see the torn up shirt of a kid i met in Kisii.  We don’t NEED anything.  WE NEED JESUS.  He is IT!  He provides what we need.  Extravagance is not the answer.  HE IS.  

Monday (En Route to Memphis)

I have arrived on U.S. soil and am back in the air again.  It’s extremely bittersweet.  These past 7 weeks of my life have been some of the most rewarding ever.  I LIVED in Africa.  I ate the food.  I worked the job.  I lived simply.  Life was different.  Every day, I gave it all and came home exhausted.  I missed home.  I got tired.  I got sick.  I got angry.  I got frustrated. I got upset.  I dealt with a lot.  My mind is still processing what I’ve seen and heard.  But through every experience, every emotion, every hardship and happiness, god would teach me.  He would guide me.  And I learned lesson after lesson.  That God was all I need.  That He is working.  That He changes lives.  That He performs miracles.  He and ONLY He.  I miss my buddies so much.  I see their smiling faces.  I hear their contagious laughs.  I see where they hurt.  And tears fill my eyes because I just want to be with them.  To hold a hand.  To give a high five or a fist bump.  To hug.  To dance.  To kick a soccer ball.  To chase around.  I wish so bad I was there.  But I’m not.  And that’s hard.  These kid are my friends, some my best friends.  I know their emotions.  And I love them.  A love that goes past superficial barriers.  To look past a crushed leg showing signs of sexual abuse.  To look past mental problems.  To look past scars of abuse.  But to see them for who they really are.  And that is only through what they have taught me and what God has taught me.  My heart hurts.  It wants home, but it wants them so much more.  So now what?  How do I go back to American life?  What can I change based on what I’ve seen?  I can’t even pick up the magazine in the seat pocket in front of me because it disgusts me.  I don’t even want to talk about the tv.  I see food everywhere, but I see a kid searching the dump for a scrap.  I see money, but I see the mud homes of my friends and trash everywhere.  I see medicine, but I see the yellowed eyes of people ridden with malaria.  I hear so much ignorance from the mouths of Americans.  Is this really the life of opportunity?  Because if it it, we’ve wasted it.  On ourselves.  Being an American comes with lavish wealth.  But if he hoard that wealth and spend it on things that mean nothing, then we’ve squandered God’s purpose for our lives.  He told us to GO AND MAKE DISCIPLES.  As you are going.  Not necessarily to Africa or anywhere on a plane.  But in some way, give your life away for others.  This is the Christian life, NOT the American dream.  This is the will of my Father.  So I give my life away.  It won’t be the same.  I don’t know how I’ll deal with the extravagance of home.  I know frustration and angriness will come.  How do these two worlds collide?  How do I reconcile these clashing life to a compromise?  I really don’t have an answer.  I have seen things that are indescribable.  Things that haunt me.  Things I don’t think I’ll ever really process fully.  People may not understand.  Adjusting is not going to be easy.  But that’s ok.  Because God has a mission for me.  To work hard in becoming a doctor so I can one day really help them.  Some of the hardest days stand before me as I’m re-immersed into American life.  As I choose how to let this experience affect me.  But He’ll be there guiding me.  He can do it all.  It is He alone.  He gave me this experience.  I don’t deserve it.  He does it through Christ in me, the hope of glory.  So I continue my adventure.  He has so much more to teach me.  And I’m ready.  Because this is not the end, or even the middle.  This is only the beginning.  Bwana Safiwe (Praise the Lord)!

Thanks for reading these updates.  Hearing your encouragement has been awesome.  Africa has my heart.  Keep praying for these beautiful people.  Barakiwe (Be Blessed)!

Kenya Update Numero Seis/Sita

Well, I'm at the end of my time here in Kitale.  Mom and Dad got here this morning with a team.  Tomorrow I have to say goodbye to the people I've grown so close to, and I'm not ready at all.  Next week will be a blur as we visit 3 cities and go on a safari at the place where the sounds for the Lion King were recorded (it's ok to be a little jealous).  And then I will head home.  Way too crazy.  This week, the public school teachers went on strike, and almost all of the orphanage kids away at boarding school came home.  It has been so good to spend time with them.  Also, I have heard some amazing stories this week, some of which are not appropriate for the internet.  God is still moving.  He TRULY is changing lives.  Please continue to pray for me and these buddies of mine.

Monday

Today in Class 3, I told the kids that this was my last week to teach.  Later at the orphanage, Delmas came up to me and said “I’m sad.”   “Why are you sad?”  “You’re going to America too soon.  I won’t let you go.”  At all of this, my heart kind of sunk a little bit.  I literally have 7 more days in Kitale.  Seven more days with these new friends of mine.  How can I say goodbye?  How can I give a thousand hugs and tell them how much I love them?  How do I begin to share what these people have taught me and meant to me?  I don’t know how I’m going to handle it.  My heart yearns to stay.  These kids mean so much.  There is no way I can write in words what they mean to me.  I will leave Kitale in a few days, but not all of me will leave.  I will leave a huge part of me behind.  I will leave part of my heart.  And I will be different.  I will be changed.  I will leave with a fresh dose of the Lord’s grace and blessing, having learned some of the hardest, most rewarding lessons ever.  I never want to be the same.  I want this to affect my whole life.  I don’t want this experience to be “that one time in Kenya.”  I don’t want my lessons left here.  That would be a complete waste of 7 weeks.  I want to have the same kind of love I’ve been shown.  I want to be a blessing to others.  My mission does not end in 2 weeks.  This is only the beginning.  My worldview has been so altered that I’ll never be the same.  My mission is based solely on where God has me at the moment.  How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.  Now I can’t say that my always dirty, chaco-tanned feet are all that beautiful.  But it does mean that wherever I go, I am Christ.  He is in me.  And I follow His call.  Wherever He leads I’ll go.  Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be til I die!

Wednesday

Not a day goes by without me being completely reminded of the depravity around me.  But my God heals.  He makes broken things whole.  But sometimes He chooses to tear to heal.  And He WILL do His Will.  Just because some of my friends live in poverty doesn’t mean they’re poor.  Sure, in money terms they are.  But they are rich in grace, thankfulness, mercy, kindness, and worship.  More than we could ever fully understand.  But I still fight the hunger, sickness, and fear with the love of God.  It’s all I can do.  Poverty is real.  The end is getting near, but I still have a few days.  To work as hard as possible.  To finish empty.

Friday

Let me tell you the story of Sunday.  Sunday comes from inside the heart of the slum.  He comes to school and eats the only food he gets for the entire day.  But during the weekend, he has nothing to eat.  And sometimes, if he can make it, he walks to June’s house for food during the weekend.  Sunday is just the poster card for so many of these kids.  Who have literally nothing.  Who would be starving without the school.  Who still starve on the weekend.  Right now, people all around me are starving.  How do I deal with this?  I’ve been around it for 6 weeks and it still doesn’t get any easier.  This is right on my doorstep.  And Sunday’s story is like those I hear all the time.  It’s like I’m  used to the fact I’m working in a slum.  But I can’t even come close to what life is really like for these kids.  I see from the outside.  They live it.  So I give all, and Christ works through me.  Because I AM working in a slum and AM a light for these kids.  He wants all of me.  Not a half, not three quarters (yeah, I’ve been teaching too much math).  He wants it all.  He is to be obeyed wholeheartedly.  He wants my fears, my failures, my faults, my successes.  He wants it all.  I want my heart to look like His heart.

“You won’t relent until you have it all; my heart is Yours”

Sunday

Tomorrow I say goodbye to this awesome place.  My heart hurts just to think about it.  I love these kids with all of my being.  They mean more to me than I can ever explain.  The past six weeks in Kitale have been a whirlwind of emotions.  And through it all, God has been right there by my side.  When I can’t take another step, when my eyes can see no more, when my ears can hear no more, when I am overwhelmed, it is there that He has carried me.  When my mind can’t comprehend or process the things my eyes have seen and when my heart screams from the inside, it is there that I have rested in Him.  When I am exhausted, dirty, sick, frustrated, joyful, angry, laughing, and smiling, it is there that He leads me to follow after His heart.  I’m human.  And no matter how much I won’t admit it, I’m a pretty emotional guy.  I left the U.S. 6 weeks ago ready to learn.  But the Africa I have experienced is different than what I was used to.  I was used to only the smiling faces and happiness.  And even though this is still Africa, there was another Africa I was yet to experience.  Where ministry is not always easy.  Where it is hard and sometimes dangerous.  Things you don’t experience short term.  But things that are real.  Where you watch your friends walk home to a place of abandonment and abuse.  But through this, I have learned so much.  Ministry is not supposed to be easy.  We were never promised it would be.  In fact, we were promised the opposite.  But it is SO worth it.  To see the smiling faces as a picture of God’s love.  I hold the hands of the orphanage kids and am amazed at God’s grace.  Stories of hope and change.  It is so worth it.  And the fact that I get to join in on this journey leaves me absolutely speechless.  Kitale has become home.  The lessons I’ve learned will last forever.  And I’m never going to be the same.  I am not ready to leave, but just like Nehemiah, I must finish the work and then return home to still work for these friends of mine.  They deserve it.  These past 6 weeks have, as I’ve said before, truly been the adventure of a lifetime.

 

 

Thanks for reading, and thanks for praying.  Your prayers keep me going.  My time here has changed me so much.  God continues to teach me everyday.  He is changing lives.  As always, I miss and love all of you! In all you do, serve Christ.  HE is ALL you need.

 

-Sam

Kenya Update Numero Cinco/Tano

We serve an awesome God.  He continues to teach me something new everyday.  God's blessing are new every morning.  These have been some of the most rewarding 5 weeks I've ever experienced.  So take a second and read what this week had in store for me.  You won't be disappointed.  I love all of you.  Keep praying!

Wednesday

Why me?  Why do I get to experience all of this?  Why am I the one to see His blessings firsthand?  Why am I the one He chooses?  With all the messed up stuff in my life, somehow He still wants to use me.  He can do it all on His own, but He still chooses to use a wretched sinner like me.  Why?  Because He loves me.  I’m His child.  And because of this, He chooses to involve me in His awesome plan in the world.  He calls us and asks us to join in.  He called the disciples and said that if they would follow Him, He would make them fishers of men.  He has such a greater purpose for our lives than just living the American dream.  Than being fake when everything inside is screaming.  Than being ignorant of what’s going on around us and around the world.  All of this is complete and utter rubbish to Him.  Being normal is so messed up.  He desires so much more than living a “normal life.”  The only thing He desires is a radical life.  But here’s the thing.  The word “radical” doesn’t mean crazy.  It means sticking strictly to a set of ideals and following them whatever it means.  So to live a radical life, I follow what my Bible says.  And what is that that it says?  To make disciples of all nations, whether that’s in Jackson, Mississippi, Memphis, Tennessee, or Kitale, Kenya.  THAT is a radical life. THAT is following Christ.  I’m still in awe that He wants to use me.  I’m just an average kid.  Without Him, I’m nothing.  But with Him, I’m everything.  I am His and He is mine.  Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

“As I lay down my life and pick up my cross

What a joy it is to give my life away to you

All that I need, all that I seek, is you here with me

Holy Spirit have your way in me.” -Leeland

 

Thursday

I sit here writing as the smell of burning trash fills my nostrils.  Not the greatest smell in the world.  But it’s a constant reminder of where I am.  In my electricity and use of the internet, I can forget that I’m still in Africa.  Where stuff like this is for the really well-off.  And last night, I found it hard to sleep.  See, I was lying in a bed with a blanket and pillow, surrounded by a mosquito net.  But as I pulled the blanket over me, I could do nothing but think of those going to sleep without anything, not even a mattress.  And all last night, it was rainy and chilly.  And chilly for me is really cold for Kenyans.  I could do nothing but picture the rain running through the mud huts.  And that’s all I could think about.  That all around me, people did not have the luxury of the blanket and pillow I was on.  And it’s a sobering thought.  I don’t think I’ll ever really get used to this.  Seeing people hungry and suffering everyday can in no way become normal.  But this is good, because it keeps things real.  I’ve been here 31 days now, and you can bet I’m tired.  But by leaning on Him more and more and seeing all of this encourages me to give my all in my ministry, leaving nothing left.  I want to finish empty.  I want to give all and more.  I want to give much because I’ve been given much.  And when I’m gone, I don’t want people to talk about me.  I want them to talk about the Christ in me.

 

Friday

So right now, 10,000 miles away, MC orientation is happening.  Two years ago, I embarked on the greatest journey of my life.  Through the past two years, I have experienced so much.  Incredible lifelong friends.  So many lessons.  So much growing and learning.  From the awesome times, like formals and informals, pinning my little brother, and endless late nights, to the hard times, like suffering through Cell Biology and Organic Chemistry, I would not trade a moment.  Mississippi College is my home.  I would not be the person I am today were it not for this college experience shaping and molding me.  And through it all, Christ has been right by my side.  I look back on the last two years of my life and smile because they have been the best yet.  So many lasting memories.  But God has so much further to take me.  I have so much more to learn and experience.  Things aren’t always going to be easy-let’s be real, I’m about to start Medical Physiology.  But I am so ready and excited for the next two years at MC to see where God leads me.  I miss it so much and am ready to be back.  But I don’t want to leave here.  There is so much awesomeness here.  Like the fact that I rode the bus to the orphanage today and literally had a Kenyan hoedown to some Gospel songs.  Normal life for Sam.

 

Saturday

“Samuel, I love you.”  Four words spoken today that made this whole experience worth it.  My whole body shivered as these words entered my ears.  I didn’t know how to reply.  I walked with him silently, but my head was going in a million different directions.  This kid who has experienced only abuse and lies his entire life TRUSTS me.  He wraps his hand around mine and knows everything is ok.  How do I deserve this?  All I’ve done is just be there.  And he knows that he is safe with his hand in mine.  I am in awe of how far I have come since I arrived here a month ago.  I’m not just a mzungu they see from afar.  The trust me.  They LOVE me.  I look at my friends and am amazed at what God has done.  This morning while singing next to Delmas, I looked at this kid so full of energy and thought, “he should not even be alive right now.”  See, Delmas was left in the bush to die because his aunt couldn’t take care of him.  Let that sink in. LEFT TO DIE.  Hellen found him 5 days later and brought him to a doctor who pronounced Delmas dead.  But she didn’t believe him.  She took Delmas home and prayed long and hard.  Then Delmas coughed.  HE WAS ALIVE!!  The doctor didn’t believe it was true, and consequently believed in the only One who could do this.  Delmas was left to die.  And today I was chasing him around the orphanage, all the while laughing as hard as we could.  These kids with these pasts trust me and know they are safe.  To even say I am humbled by this fact is an understatement.  I in no way deserve this.  My God is so good that I can’t even come close to comprehending His goodness.  He encompasses all and works all together for good.  There is no condemnation for us in Christ.  He is way too good for me to handle.  He requires my worship.

“For I am convinced that neither life nor death, neither angels nor demons, neither the present or the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the Love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” –Romans 8:38

 

Sunday

All I need is His presence.  Nothing else.  I don’t need money.  I don’t need teaching.  I don’t NEED friends.  All of these pale in comparison to Him.  Yet He still chooses to bless us with all of that extra, and I’m so thankful.  Why did I have to go halfway around the world to realize this, though?  Because here, everything is stripped away.  No distractions.  And I see myself for who I really am.  A wretched sinner.  I see my anger.  I see my pride.  I see my selfishness.  I’ve been here 5 weeks now, and the “high” of a mission trip is gone.  It’s day to day real life now.  And that comes with all emotions.  I can’t put on a façade. I can’t act fake.  And so the emotions flood.  Tears at what my eyes see everyday.  Today I watched a child collapse to the ground because he had sniffed too much glue.  Glue is their “drug.”  It curbs hunger.  I see things like this Every. Single. Day.  I’m upset.  My heart screams inside of me as I drive through the dump and as I pass people suffering everyday.  We have to do something people!  We can’t keep living how we’re living!  Because if we keep living like we’re living, they’ll keep living how they’re living.  Children should not have to resort to glue because they couldn’t find any food even in the dump.  This is not ok!  And if we live in ignorance of this, that is not ok either!  I speak like this because they can’t speak for themselves.  This is real.  All these stories I’ve told the past 5 weeks I have seen with my own eyes.  Don’t just read this.  Do SOMETHING!  All we do is tell God yes.  You don’t HAVE to go halfway around the world.  Last night I was talking to one of my best friends.  God has been teaching us some of the same stuff while she serves in Clinton and I in Africa!  The world begins where YOUR feet end.  He wants all of us.  We are overcome by all of His presence.  And in His presence there is fullness of joy.  With Him nothing is every the same.  His glory is all we need.

“Holy Spirit you are welcome here

Come flood this place and fill the atmosphere

Your glory, God, is what our hearts long for

To be overcome by your presence Lord” –Jesus Culture

 

 

God is sovereign over all.  He is so good.  Mom and Dad get to Kitale on Saturday with a team.  I can't wait to hug both of them.  I still have two weeks in this amazing country.  My heart is full, but I can't wait for the next thing He has in store for me.  Keep praying for these buddies of mine.  And pray for my strength.  I want to finish empty.  Love and miss all of you!

-Sam

Kenya Update Numero Quatro/Nne

So I've been here for almost a month now.  It has been the adventure of a lifetime.  God teaches me something new everyday.  This week came with a lot of funny moments and some hardships as well.  But through it all, my God is always sovereign.  Continue to keep me in your prayers.  I love you all!

Tuesday

I laughed as I heard Swahili fly from June’s lips faster than I ever had before this morning.  She ran from the water bucket with Madame Beatrice bent over in laughter.  Why? Her biggest fear.  A rat.  Last night, a rat had gotten into the 100 liter bucket and died there.  She ran out of the kit hen as fast as her legs could carry her, leaving the rest of us laughing.  In the few breaths I could get out, I asked her if she wanted me to take care of it.  She barely got out “yes,” so I got a collinder and dipped it out.  I brought it to the “toilet,” which is really just as hole in the ground.  The kids just stared and gave crazed looks as I walked by them holding a bowl with a dead rat inside, trying the contain my laughter.  Welcome to the everyday experiences of living in Africa.  And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  I mean, it ain’t a party going to the bathroom in a stinky hole.  But the simplicity of life here makes it all worth it.  Things we forget we even have are nowhere to be seen.  Washers and dryers, paper towels, CLEAN WATER FROM A FAUCET.  Every morning I wake up and filter my water for the day.  This includes drinking water and water for brushing my teeth and taking my malaria meds.  Having the chicken I saw running in the yard earlier for dinner.  The beauty of the countryside.  The red dirt roads that make tons of dust to drive my nose crazy.  All our fruit bought from the market in the square.  You know, God is an extremely complex God.  He is omnipotent and omniscient.  He knows all.  But sometimes He chooses to make His voice and commands simple.  And we simple say yes.  We are to be like Isaiah and say “Here I am.  Send me.”  Simply following His Will.  He is waiting for us to fall into surrender and rest.  All we have to do is simply reply yes and follow the incredible purpose He has for our life.

 

Thursday

Today was one of those days I just wanted to stay in bed.  I was tired and my bed was so warm.  Besides, they could do without me for a day, right?  These days come.  I work very hard every day and barely fall into bed at night.  I then felt in this moment that I needed to get up.  To do this.  To do that.  Work, work, work.  And God said “stop.”  He slowly breathed on me and said “it’s not about doing; it’s about me.  You’re tired so you can further put your trust in me.” See, if we continue doing and forget what we are doing it for, then our doing is completely worthless.  My hope is not on my body to continue because obviously that’s not happening.  My worthless body points me to one thing.  Him.  Why?  Because He is enough.  He is all I need.  I don’t need to do, but I just need to be still and know He is God.  Sometimes He speaks in the still, small voice that can barely be heard.  Sometimes He speaks and dry bones grow flesh and breathe.  There is nothing I can do for God.  He has done it all and just chooses to allow me to join in.  He does it all for me.  So I don’t trust in myself or anyone else, because He is enough.  He wraps His arms around me and guides me where I’m to go.  I just have to reside in His presence.  He is there expecting my worship.  He is my light, my salvation, my strong tower, my refuge, my rock.  And if He is all that, I can trust Him to wake me up in the morning and rejoice because He made this day for me to enjoy to the fullest.  It is He and He alone.  I just stay close and abide.  It reminds me of such a good song…

“Draw me closer, Oh My Lord.  Draw me closer, Lord, to thee.

And captivate us, Lord Jesus.  Set our eyes on you.

Devastate us with your presence, falling down.

And rushing river, draw us nearer.  Holy fountain, consume us with you.

And captivate us, Lord Jesus, with you.”

 

Friday

Well, I’ve been here 25 days now.  My halfway point in Kenya.  Sad face.  But the things I’ve learned and experienced here will last for the rest of my life.  This place has changed me so much.  I would not be the person I am today had I never set foot here 3 years ago.  So I want to take a second and thank my sister for the person she is.  Around 7 years ago, Katie heard Mike Curry talk about this place in Africa called Kenya, and God started stirring something in her heart.  She took a huge step of faith and asked Mom and Dad if she could go, and they took a step of faith and agreed.  Well, obviously it changed Katie’s life.  And now, 7 years later, our whole family has been affected by our experiences in Kenya, and nothing has been the same.  All because my sister took one leap of faith.  And I am forever thankful.  Besides my parents, Katie is the person I look up to most in life.  The way she selflessly serves others humbly and lives her life on mission inspires me so much.  She is always there to encourage me or give me advice.  She is there for me even though we live 4 hours away from each other.  Not to mention she’s pretty cool too, and can still beat all of us up.  She’s got jokes too, and can deal with my corniness.  I love her so much.  My whole life is directed now from what I’ve experienced in Kenya.  Everything that I am doing and working towards was changed and set into motion because of this place.  And without her, none of that would probably be happening.  So I am forever thankful for her.  She’s not just my sister.  She’s my best friend.

 

Saturday

Today a medical team was at the orphanage to test for HIV.  I asked Hellen how big of a deal HIV was in this area.  And how she replied shocked me.  She said that it was the #1 killer; that 70% of the people here are HIV positive.  Seventy percent.  That almost everyone in the slum is affected, and that people just don’t care or are in denial.  So it spreads through the sinful lifestyle that is everywhere there.  And I was just brought to my knees.  My mind cannot fully comprehend it.  If they even got some proper medication and ate a good diet, it could greatly be helped.  But because of their situation, it’s impossible.  How can I live while so many around me are dying?  Why do I get to have food tonight?  Why is it me?  I’m on my knees and the understanding is hard to come by.  This is life here.  It’s hard.  HIV kills.  Bottom line.  And people suffer because of it.  Children live in fear when they find they’re infected.  This is not a story on the internet.  This is reality.  My friends are affected by it.  But at school, they are taught how to deal with it.  We are bringing up a generation who will not only live for Christ, but will affect Kipsongo for Him.  Because if people won’t listen, I can at least help those who will.  God has these people.  They are HIS.  He heals.  One kid who was HIV positive no longer shows it.  He cares for His own.  He protects.  I am His, and so are many of these sick people.  I still don’t know how to handle the fact that 70 % of the people around me possibly have a death sentence.  That’s hard for anyone to handle.  But my God is good.  He is there and at work.  He is the one to put trust in.  And I pray that my friends put their hope in THE ultimate hope.  It is for His glory and His glory alone.

 

Sunday

God works through weakness.  I woke up today not feeling any better.  While in the shower, I prayed that God would at least heal me just when I was preaching today.  But He had other plans.  When I got up to preach, I was still feeling sick.  My sore throat was there and my nose was running the whole time.  But the Holy Spirit came upon me.  Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.  And in my weakness of sickness, He held me.  I preached for an hour today!!  I have never felt the Spirit of the Lord before like I did today.  And it all came from putting all of my trust in Him.  And through it all, HE was glorified through my sickness.  And me, being stubborn, was just in awe of His goodness.  Today marks the end of my fourth week here.  I have seen and experienced so many blessings this week, but it has also come with tiredness and sickness.  But through it all, I have been able to see God like never before.  He just wants us to rest in Him.  It is not by our own doing we live in this world.  When I am helpless and put my faith in Him, He works through me.  All of my pride and selfishness goes away, and it is only Him.  Everything is stripped away, but He remains faithful.  If there is anything I’ve learned here, it’s that I can do nothing apart from Him.  I work in hard areas, but He is so good and sustains me through it all.  Every day, I get a runny nose or something because my immune system is in overdrive to fight off stuff from just holding hands and being the victim of a few coughs.  This is the cost of working with the least of these.  There is no such thing as clean.  Dirtiness is everywhere.  But this is also the wonder of it all.  I don’t want to be clean.  I want to feel the dirt.  The grime.  I want to know how it feels.  I want my life to be filled with the “dirtiness” of Africa.  Because if I wash it off, I’m just a normal, average American.  And I don’t want to be normal.  I want to change the world.

God is still working here.  He is teaching me so much.  And I have so much more to learn.  Keep me in your prayers, but not just me, but all of my friends here.  I love you all and I miss you.  Mungu Akubariki (God Bless You)!

-Sam

Kenya Update Numero Tres/Tatu

This week carried a lot of hard experiences, but a lot of God's grace as well.  This is a pretty long post, but I just couldn't leave anything out.  So please, please take a little bit of time and read this.  I really appreciate it.  And continue praying.  God is at work.  He is changing lives.

Tuesday (Feeding Station

Today I stayed at the school later than I normally do.  Something told me “stay a little later today,” even though I had played all morning (there were no breaks today).  Well kids are kids, and in the extra time I was there, one kid got kit in the head with a rock.  So I took him to the clinic to look at it and treat it.  Well, one person quickly turned into an audience and a lieu of people on the waiting bench.  I treated people, adults and kids alike, for an hour and a half, and only then because everyone had to leave.  I don’t know how to describe how this made me feel.  Happy doesn’t seem like the right word.  I guess it gave me joy, but that word is overused.  I just really felt in my element helping all of these people.  It’s one of those emotions you get when you know you are right where you need to be, doing what you need to be doing.  I don’t just physically mean in Kenya, although it was partly it.  I mean that as my position in life.  One day, if it all works out, I will be a doctor and be able to do this every day.  That is an awesome thought.  That I get to be a physical representation of Christ in such a tangible way.  It was like I was literally transformed from the bumbling idiot (in my best Snape voice) trying to jump over a piece of string or kick a rock into a square, to the calm, collected “doctor,” taking exquisite care of patients.  And I know that transformation is only due to Christ.  Once again, I really don’t know how to describe this transformation, but what I do know is that God is slowly revealing the road He wants me to take, and today, He gave me a mile marker.  Praise be to Him.

 

Wednesday (Feeding Station)

Why can’t I fix everything?  Why can’t I snap my fingers and have it all go away?  I’m a guy.  And I’m pretty sure there’s a gene on the Y chromosome for wanting to fix things.  Today, we took a very sick child with malaria to the doctor.  I could do nothing but listen to him cry.  I couldn’t console him because I don’t speak Swahili.  I couldn’t help him because I had not medicine.  All I could do is be there.  It’s in my nature to want to fix things.  I’m OCD about certain things and that comes out here.  It’s extremely difficult for me when something is wrong and I can’t do anything about it.  Can’t is not a word that comes easily to me.  I want to be able to do everything.  I want to be able to help.  I want…  And so today, when we couldn’t console the little boy, God was consoling me.  I felt helpless.  I looked out the window of the Matatu and saw needs all around me.  And I just want to fix it all.  And as I write this now, I just remember the song, “I am restless until I rest in you, God.”  To be super corny, He has the whole world in His hands.  He knows what’s going on.  And He leaves some things unfixed for reasons way above mine.  Maybe to teach hard lessons to people like me.  I don’t like it.  I’m being completely honest.  I want everything to be ok.  But it’s not going to be.  But there is someONE who has been and is always going to be.  He is going to be there.  He is going to be faithful.  And one day, he will fix everything to be perfect as He is perfect.  He brings all people to Him.  And I have to be stretched because I am one of His own.  And so no matter how much I feel helpless and ask “why,” He says, “Because I’m worth it.”  Amen.

 

Thursday (Orphanage)

Tonight, while we were at the orphanage, Mama Hellen got onto the kids for something you wouldn’t normally expect.  A few days ago, a mother visited the school and gave her kid some mandazi.  Well the kids passed it around, and two of the kids from the orphanage took some, and got food poisoning.  She was telling them not to ever take food from the slum.  But this stuck me.  The one time they have food from the slum, they get food poisoning.  I don’t know how to describe it, but it made things real.  This is the place where I am working.  Where the thing they are so longing for is even a curse itself.  I can’t even handle thinking about it.  I see them happy, eating good food, and playing with friends, but forget about where the go after school.  I see them walking, but don’t think about it.  But they are going “home,” where only hunger, pain, sorrow, and fear awaits.  Where they do not know when they will get food and if it will even help them.  Where even living comes with jiggers eating away at their hands and feet, leaving gashes, holes, raw skin, and decaying flesh.  Where sickness like malaria is rampant.  Where sin abounds.  This is a place of literally no hope.  But this knowledge makes the school that much more of a blessing.  They get GOOD food, GOOD teaching, but most importantly, they hear about Christ.  I see it from the outside a lot, but when I look into the lens of one of these kids, I see so much more.  And so I am all the more motivated to be His servant.  To continue to tell these kids of a place where there is NO more pain.  NO more hunger.  NO more sickness.  NO more pain.  NO more thirst.  NO more hurt.  NO more fear.  A place where we will see Christ face to face.  A place where He will hold us close, and we will worship Him forever.  Lord, hasten the day.

 

Friday (Feeding Station)

I don’t even know how to begin this entry.  To put into words what I’ve seen and heard today doesn’t even do it justice.  There are many times I’m left speechless here, but this is far above the others.  I’ve been sitting here for 5 minutes now trying to figure out how to write the next sentence.  Nothing I can say will really paint the true picture of what I saw.  Today I watched a school kid run off the boundary of the school and go to a pile of burning trash that had just been set aflame.  He reached into the fire and dirt, pulled out a small piece of food and ate it.  And now I can’t even look at food the same.  I’ve seen people searching through trash plenty of times, but this was different.  This was something more.  Not just trash, but burning trash.  The image has been burning in my head and replaying over and over all day.  This is not a story.  This is not a picture.  This is real.  This is personal.  I have touched that child’s hand.  I have spent time with him.  He’s not a face.  He’s not a statistic.  He’s my friend.  How can I eat like a king even in Africa when 3 miles away, many of my friends are suffering?  How is this ok?  For me to live a luxurious life at a great college with amazing friends while these kids live a life of hunger, abuse, and neglect.  Why is life like this?  Why was I born in America and nor Africa?  Why do I get to live this life?  WHY?!  I’m frustrated and I’m upset.  My eyes are beginning to tear as I think of my friends surrounded by drunkards who could possibly be beating them this very instant.  I think of what they are witnessing people do.  And I don’t know how to reply.  I just don’t know.  I am blessed and am an American for a reason.  I know this.  I have a purpose as an American, and I came to grips with that long ago.  But that still doesn’t make their life ok.  It’s ok when they’re a statistic.  A number.  But when they call you “rafiki,” everything changes.  When they hold your hand for all it’s worth, something is different.  Their so called parents have lost all hope and don’t even care.  All of these people live with literally no hope.  And that’s not just an expression.  It’s reality.  So with that image in my head, I went to dinner.  Somehow the conversation turned to the slum.  How the slum used be all plastic huts.  Richard told a story of guy who had died because his hut had collapsed in the rain and trapped him.  And no one cared.  They just left him there.  How the kids learn one thing at school and are shown the complete opposite at home.  How the people have just given up.  As he spoke more and more, my heart dropped lower and lower.  I couldn’t believe some of the things I heard.  But then he talked about how the ministry began.  How they couldn’t do everything, but had to do something.  And how time after time, God provided what they needed at the last moment.  Story after story of provision and grace.  I’ve heard many stories here, but tonight I heard Hellen’s story.  How she never knew her real father, but how she was tortured and abused by her mom’s husband.  Because of this, she is fueled to be the modern day Mama Theresa that she is.  She tells them if she can make it, so can they.  So at the end of the day after hearing and seeing so much, there is still hope.  I’m frustrated, I’m mad, I’m upset, but I’m rejoicing in the restoration that’s still happening.  Grace is a process.  It takes time.  But God is slowly restoring Kipsongo.  He is sufficient.  He is working.  But my eyes will never see things the same again.  It’s hard to live life knowing what’s going on a few miles away.  But we do what we can.  He is a healer.  He is all we need.  And He is more than enough for me, and all my buddies in Kipsongo.  HE alone sustains and is all we need.

 

Sunday (Tent Church)

Safari.  The Swahili word for journey.  My figurative safari here in Kenya is just like a physical safari.  Sometimes you’re going very fast.  Sometimes the road is full of potholes.  Sometimes you spend more time off the road than on the road.  This week had a lot of potholes.  A lot of hard experiences.  A lot to handle psychologically and emotionally.  This I saw.  Things I heard.  I’ve experienced some of these things before.  Africa is not a new experience for me.  Culture shock was gone long ago.  But this week, things became personal.  I watched people I’ve grown to love suffer.  I saw pain, disease, and hunger like never before.  But the fact is, this is normal life.  This is Africa.  This is His people.  Yes, they suffer, but that drives them to praise God even more.  To give their all in worship.  To sing and dance like David, becoming even more undignified than this (cue middle school camp song).  Because no matter what, they realize that what they have comes from Him and Him alone.  But there are still those without Christ, with no hope.  In all that I do, I must show Christ’s love, in whatever way possible, whether it be food, drink, or even a black on white handshake.  Why?  Because I carry Christ, who not only brings hope, but is THE hope of glory.  I’m still upset by the sights I’ve seen, and I don’t think that will go away.  This is my mission.  The Gospel on earth.  So I continue resting in my Creator, and in order to carry His will, become even more undignified than this, so at the end of the day, it all goes to Him.

God is good.  Thanks for taking the time to read this.  It means more than you know for you to have things to specifically pray for.  This place has become home.  I love it more and more each day.  But I love and miss all of you SO, SO much.  Please continue to keep me in your prayers.  As a good friend of mine says, your prayers are my fuel.

-Sam

Kenya Update Numero Dos/Mbili

Hey guys!  This has been an awesome, humbling week.  In this post, I have some fun times, some learning time, and some times of struggle.  This may be a little bit of a long post, but it's got some good stuff, so please take some time to read it.  Hope you enjoy.  Miss you guys a whole lot!

Wednesday (Kenyan Funeral)

One of the speeches that I will forever remember was from Ann, Christine’s daughter, a 10/11ish year old girl.  She literally almost brought me to tears as she talked about a loving mother, a caring mother, but not just for her, but for so many at the orphanage.  As she struggled to make it through the paper she had written on, and the tears started flowing, I saw a picture of Christ.  We are called sons of God.  How cool is that?! That we, in our sin and filth, are called His! It’s hard to even fathom.  The maturity that Ann composed in her letter about her late mom was awesome.  It was quick, but it carried so much emotional impact.  Ann is already so mature for her age.  So many of the kids are.  Most of them have to be after all they’ve experienced.  But the joy in Christ they possess is astounding.  God is changing lives.  It is evident in many of these kids.  They came from things unimaginable, but they have become SAFE, and that is awesome.  One more thing.  When Ann found out about her mom a few days ago, the first thing she asked Hellen was if they were going to send her away.  She was so afraid of going to live with her dad.  I don’t know the extent, but the ex-husband is not a good man.  Obviously Hellen told her no, but what she said next is stuck in my head.  “I am your Mom and Richard is your dad.” Simple, yet profound.  What an awesome few words.  We are adopted.  We are His.  So tonight as I quickly fall asleep (exhausted, remember), I am resting (ha get it) in that promise.  Amen.

Friday (Feeding Station/School)

Well, I’ve finished my first full school week (I still go tomorrow, but it’s to do Bible study, not school).  It’s weird to think that I’ve been in country 10 days now.  I’ve finally started to really settle in my new home, but I still miss my friends a lot.  I’m facing a good bit of emotional opposition from Satan.  I’m here by myself, and that is hard.  I get lonely a lot.  I miss my MC peeps like crazy.  I miss my mom.  I’m human, and I have emotions.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  Let’s be real, I even miss Chick-fil-A.  But no matter what Satan tries to do to me, I know that I am here for a reason.  God is changing me slowly but surely.  He is breaking me of every part of myself.  Especially my selfishness.  There’s nothing like being around tons of selfless people all the time to show you how selfish you really are.  But in order for God to break me of myself, I must experience these things.  Just like building muscle, it must be stretched and torn for it to grow.  Longing.  Loneliness.  Selfishness.  Humbling.  But along with these are little gifts from Him.  Smiles.  Laughter.  Dirty hands interwoven into and wrapped around mine.  Kids screaming my name.  People calling me brother and meaning it.  So no matter how hard this process may be, He is there to walk me through it.  And I love that.  This truly is “GOD WITH US.”  As the kids say, God is good all the time, and that is His nature.  I am slowly learning to further satisfy myself in Him so He can truly direct my paths.  I really love it here.  I love these people.  I always will. I would not trade this experience for anything.  It truly is the adventure of a lifetime.

Saturday (Orphanage)

So while this was happening, I walked with Richard all over the land.  We walked through the unfinished building that is to house 100 girls (it’s huge), and then walked through fields that are going to be buildings in the future.  Richard would just point to a piece of ground and say what was going to be there one day.  He is believing in God for BIG things.  His prayers are not small, but BIG prayers.  His faith is unwavering.  It gave me a lot of confidence in my endeavors.  I have a huge, long, hard road ahead of me – to finish college, med school, residency, etc.  But I can believe BIG things and know God will do it.  Why?  Because He is always faithful.  As I walked with Richard, we talked about how it is a lot, but God is the one who can complete it in His own time.  So I’m believing big things.  Because if there’s anyone who’s trustworthy and never failing, it’s Him.

 

Sunday (Tent Church)

The past few days have been filled with all different emotions.  Happiness.  Longing.  Contentedness.  Selfishness.  All the emotions of a little kid living in an African world.  In my low times and in my high times, a feeling of Emmanuel being my only refuge.  I’m in Africa.  Not drive-by Africa.  Not short term mission trip Africa.  I am an African.  My entire lifestyle has been altered.  Not in a “few days of difference” like a “mission trip” (not that those aren't awesome experiences).  This is my life.  This is my home.  Dirt, trash, sickness, disease, and bad smells are part of my everyday life.  I eat ugali and all sorts of Kenyan food all the time and hardly delve into my American stash of Goldfish.  I wake up early and go to bed early.  This is the beauty of Africa.  Africa is not the romanticized experience shown in youth groups.  It is dangerous.  It is dirty.  It is HARD.  I live in a world around people searching through dumps for food.  I watch people suffer every day, and feel absolutely helpless about it.  My ministry is difficult.  I struggle a lot.  And I never realized all of this until I actually lived here.  But with all of this comes so much blessing.  So much joy.  So much laughter.  Lasting memories.  Love.  The fullness of Christ and the realization of His character.  His heart is for these people.  These are the ones He spent His time with.  The broken.  The hurting.  The sick.  The dying.  The lonely.  The hopeless sinner.  Hopeless.  What a word.  This is His heart.  And if my heart is to look like His, this is to be my heart as well.  My heart is for Africa after these past few days as never before.  These are my friends.  My brothers.  My sisters.  And I have found in all these experiences, freedom.  Freedom comes with surrender.  In whatever I face, whatever emotion or experience, I enter with surrender, and with that comes inexpressible joy.  A simple yes to His will, and my life is transformed.  And I am no longer a hopeless kid in Africa.  I am His.  And He is mine.  I am bought with a price and sent to bring His kingdom on earth.  With freedom and surrender, I am utterly motivated to continue.  As this African world is now my world, I live in it with His mission.  The many times I feel helpless in a world of pain, full of things and sights I find hard to process even to this waking moment, He is there to say, “Rest in me.  Rest in your daddy’s arms.  I just want to hold you close and speak my love to you.”  This is my daddy’s heart.  This is Africa.  Not though a glass window or photo away from the dirt and pain.  But real Africa.  His mission will not be finished until the day He comes to take His kids home.  So I am here.  A little kid living in a huge African world.  And I continue after my daddy’s heart.  And I am surrounded by people doing the same.  And with this comes rejoicing inexpressible.  Praise be to God for His indescribable gift.  Praise Him because He is completely and utterly WORTH IT.  He deserves it all.

 

Thanks for taking the time to read this.  Seriously, it means a ton.  Please continue to keep me in your prayers.  I'm having an incredible time.  I miss and love all of you.  Seriously.

-Sam