We Visited Two Hospitals, A Women's Prison, And Five Houses In Shimo...A Typical Wednesday.

The last full day with the team was just that: full. I woke up early and went straight to Precious Kids Center where I picked up Phoebe and Junior (who was dressed and ready for a CT scan to check that his shunt was functioning properly after he'd fainted a few days prior.) 

I drove us to the hospital (I'm getting pretty good at this opposite-side-of-the-road gig!) and Junior played games on my phone while waiting his turn. We took this picture to send to Sammy while she was in Nairobi...he is a really cute kid.

When we arrived back at the Center, Mike took one look at the car (and the strange angle of the front passenger tire) and told me that I shouldn't be driving this car until it was repaired. So, he dropped me at Steve's to wait for the team, he dropped Phoebe back at the hospital to wait for Junior's test results, and he went to town to get an estimate on the car.

About an hour later, he came back and told me it was going to be about $100 to fix it. I paused (since I don't have that kind of money to spare) and told him I'd have to call Sammy to see how she'd like to proceed.

One of Steve's team members overheard the conversation, ran in the house, and came back with the money to fix the car. I nearly burst in to tears at this generosity! I handed the money to Mike and he took the car to be repaired. I turned back to the team member, with a grateful heart, and said thank you a few more times.

We cleaned up lunch plates (egg salad sandwiches and a huge bowl of stove-top popcorn) and headed to town to pick up Steve. Once the Jeep was full, we made our way over to the women's prison.

I first visited the Kitale prison with one of Steve's teams in 2005. I have so many memories from those visits, including this one from 2007, which is, easily, one of the most memorable Kitale experiences. And, a close second, this one from 2009.

Well, today gave those two memories a run for their money.

We were greeted by Bernard, the prison chaplain, as we unloaded the gifts from the back of the Jeep. He introduced himself and then said to me, "I think this is not your first time, right?" I smiled and said, "Good memory! I've been here with Steve many times!"

He then escorted us inside and introduced us to the female warden who walked us around to the back of the building where we were greeted by a huge crowd of women in stripes singing. Photos are not allowed in the prison, otherwise, I would love to show you the scene: grass lawn, a crowd of smiling faces in grey and blue stripes, with a cornfield and bright blue sky backdrop. It was remarkable.

Bernard began our time together, and introduced Steve who asked how many of the women in the prison were from Kipsongo. Many raised their hands...which made for a perfect transition to Caren's story. She grew up in Kipsongo and is now living her dream of teaching and finishing her credential. The entire time she was speaking, all eyes were on her. The crowd was silent and fixed on her every word. At the end of her story, the women burst in to applause.

Bernard shared a bit again and then I stood up. I am working, really hard, to learn Swahili, so I tried to do my entire introduction in Swahili. It was only about four sentences, but I did it. The crowd stood up and we sang and danced together.

Leila shared her story of accepting Christ and finding freedom a few years ago and then Steve shared about the forgiveness and healing that comes from God's love. He asked if anyone would like to accept Christ today and dozens of women stepped forward. They began to pray, and cry, as Steve spoke a blessing over them. It was a beautiful moment.

Lastly, Steve gave the gifts we'd brought: soap, maxi pads, lotion, and blankets for the mothers. (Children are allowed to stay in the prison with their moms until they are 4.)

The women began to sing as we started to pack up. Kamari and I began to dance with them and, soon enough, even the matrons (guards) were dancing with us! It was a very fun, spontaneous party!

Before we left, the guards asked that Steve stop-in and pray for a possessed woman that had been making animal noises for the entire three weeks she'd been in the prison. (She stole from someone who, apparently, put a curse on her. Since then, she'd been making the same noises day and night for three weeks.) Kamari, Steve and I went in to see the woman. Steve clarified that he'd not taken a course in this, it could just as likely be a psychological issue as possession, and--he stressed this point--we have no power on our own, only the power of Jesus. With that, we began to pray. The woman, held by two other prisoners, became rigid and started foaming at the mouth. She shook and spat and gagged as several of us prayed, loudly and passionately, in the name of Jesus that anything that was not of Him would depart. That the power of God is stronger than any power of this world. That this woman would be freed, healed, whole in the name of Jesus. After a few minutes, the woman stopped shaking and fell asleep. The guard were instructed to bring her food and water, to allow her to sleep, and to make sure that the other girls did not mock her for this, but instead, remember and rejoice that Jesus had healed her.

We prayed once more, dried our tears and headed out to the Jeep. We walked out of the gates and Mike was there with a full repaired van! Such a great surprise!

We took a quick photo together to commemorate the incredible day and then headed out for our next adventure!

Oh, I didn't want to miss my chance to be part of the group shot!

With everyone in the van (which drives so well now!) we made two quick stops: samosas, chapati and sodas at the gas station and then at the house to pick up our supplies and use the restroom. With tubs of house gifts filling the trunk, we drove down the hill to start our tour of Shimo la Tewa slum.

We parked the van at the top of the hill and walked down to cross the bridge over the stream in the middle of the community.

We looked down to see many women and children collecting water.

As precarious as the bridge is, I stopped halfway across to take a picture of this landscape!

There are several families in this area that we've been working with for years, through Oasis of Hope, and many more that attend the Precious Kids Center school. We chose 5 to visit on this afternoon.

The team gifted each family with a large tub, two kinds of flour, laundry soap, bath soap, lotion, salt, sugar, tea, and maxi pads. We introduced ourselves, gave the gifts, prayed over the family and then said our goodbyes. Quick, but after the long morning--and with the rains coming--we had to keep moving!

The first was Rispah, Chris, and Steve-Os house. The younger boys attend Precious Kids Center school.

We made the long walk around to the next set of homes. On the way, we ran in to a few kids from Precious Kids Center school--even one of the laundry women--a few younger siblings of Oasis of Hope kids, and the Principal from Greenfields Primary School. It was a fun little walk!

Peter...the youngest of a family from Oasis of Hope (and one sibling who lives at Precious Kids Center)

Brian (from PKC school) and all of the neighborhood kids

We stopped to entertain the crowd while the rest of our crew caught up. This was a version of 'Simon Says'.

We ended our tour with my favorite family in all of Shimo! Here are five of the seven kids I have known and loved for years: Lucy, Erika, Peter, Mama, Christine, and Ajix.

A tighter shot with all of them!

One more dinner with Steve's team, processing all that we'd seen and experienced (today and this week) and I said my goodbyes. They had a 3am wake-up call to make their flight to the safari park, which I was grateful to not be needed for!

I spent the entire next day at home. I slept in, had breakfast in bed, did some laundry, painted my nails--even shaved my legs like a real woman! That night, I got this photo from Sammy in Nairobi. (Jabal had gone with them to make it easier to get him to the hospital in Kijabe to have his stitches removed. This kid had the time of his life on safari and in Nairobi...with all of this attention. So dang cute!)

When I hadn't left the house all day, my landlord came over to check on me. I told him I was fine, just enjoying my time alone. A few minutes later, his daughters knocked at my door with dinner: chicken and rice! It was a wonderful way to end my day of relaxation (before everything picked up again on Friday!)

Thanks for making it through that marathon post. I promise several shorter posts are in your future. The team is gone and we are back to our "normal" routine...the days are full, but not nearly as long.

A Photographic Tour Of Kipsongo Slum

As I mentioned, there are a few things that only happen while a team is in town and, fortunately for us, we are invited to participate. One of these is a medical clinic. Technically, the staff and nursing students at Sister Freda's run clinics like these several times a year, but we don't typically join them. 

This particular clinic was special to me because it was being held in Kipsongo, the slum that I have been working to build relationships in. As Freda and her team set-up and organized the lines, our team took a tour of the slum.

It began with this woman sleeping (more likely passed out) in between the homes...so we knew from the start that this would be an eventful morning.

Steve has been visiting this slum for years--I first came with one of his teams in 2004--so he has many, many friends in the neighborhood. One of these friends is Lucy. Awhile back, when this slum was really crazy (it's still not super safe--especially in the evening when the local alcohol flows like wine...) Lucy's throat was cut in the middle of the night. The blade missed her jugular vein by a few inches and she was able to seek medical care in time to save her life, but she carries a large scar along with her memory of that night. This morning, as we talked with her and saw her home, Steve mentioned how thin and unhealthy Lucy looked. He gave our friend Patricia, who was leading our tour, money and instructions to take Lucy to the hospital to be tested for HIV and seen by a doctor. On Wednesday, we heard that she tested negative for HIV(!!!) The doctor said she needs a balanced diet and should give up alcohol, but is otherwise healthy.

We wandered through the homes until Steve caught our attention once more. He stopped us in front of a house and told us about the Ukrainian Pastor, Gennadiy, who had built this home with his own two hands. He spent an entire day building, slept through this night on a mat in front, and woke up early to finish. It still stands and is a safe, hygienic home for this family.

The first time I visited Kipsongo, the entire slum was filled with 'homes' like this one on the left. Sticks shaped in to dome-like structures and covered with bags and trash for insulation and weather protection. Obviously, these homes are unsafe and unsanitary. Over the last five (or so) years, an organization has come in and raised funds to build new homes, complete with concrete flooring (which keeps away jiggers) for the residents of this area. It is amazing to hear the women talk, with pride, about their homes now. Patricia (in the green dress) was full of statistics and details as she led our tour through homes past and present.

Another organization has built two wells in the community to help prevent water-borne illnesses. We walked up as this woman was collecting her daily water and Kamari jumped in to help her pump.

After this, we walked in to the clinic. Surrounded by men and women of all ages--putting faces and names...diseases, wounds, and scars...to the homes we just walked by--was the final straw for the women on Steve's team. They promptly burst in to tears. Steve rallied the two cars of people and took us to lunch in town for a small break and a bit of time to process all that we had just experienced.

With full stomachs, Leila and I ran downstairs to another restaurant to pick-up food and water bottles for Freda's team, our friends we'd left behind, and one woman (whom I love) who told me that she and her family hadn't eaten for several days.

When we arrived back at Kipsongo, I jumped out of the van, to find Hellen and notify the others that lunch was in the van and nearly stepped on these two boys lounging in the grass. They were so cute!

Many of the women in Kipsongo are part of a group that make beaded jewelry to sell in town. The hope would be that this would generate enough income to keep the women from their current #1 employment option: prostitution.

They had set out blankets and seed sacks covered in earrings, bracelets, and necklaces to show Freda's staff and our team. I wandered around to greet each woman and, in broken Swahili, cracked jokes, sang and danced, and explained that I didn't have any money for jewelry that day. As I laughed and danced (and fought off friendly harassment from upcoming saleswomen) this mama wandered up. She was speaking in quick Swahili and grabbing at her chest making a sucking noise. Another woman translated for me: "Her daughter's name is also Alice and, since she nursed her years ago, she could also nurse you now." I politely declined and we shared a laugh. She came back with a necklace for me, as a gift, and told me to please remember her when I visit again.

Andrew and Djambi are a brother and sister who grew up in a ditch (an actual ditch on the side of the road) with their mother. Steve met them at a street kid day (when we used to open the doors of a local church to bathe, feed, and entertain nearly 200 street children) and has watched them grow up for the last 12 years. Andrew is currently in Form 1 (freshman year of high school) and Djambi is a proud mom of two kids and a member of the beading group in Kipsongo. While they were here with Steve I was excited to recreate a photo he took with them on the first day they'd met.

We brought the team back to the house to reflect and recharge while Kamari and I snuck over to Precious Kids Center to play for an hour.

On Monday, Junior had fainted and was out for about an hour. They took him to the hospital and diagnosed him with malaria. He spent the night in the hospital and was warmly welcomed home while we were there on Tuesday afternoon. Because he was born with hydrocephalus, the doctor's recommended that he have a CT scan to check that his shunt was still working properly. Phoebe and I made a plan to take him first thing Wednesday morning.

And then I stumbled across Male and Bram cuddled together, being adorable.

The swingset caused more injuries than it was worth, so Sammy wrapped the swings as high as they would wind. It, clearly, does not stop the kids from trying death-defying tricks.

Kamari and I rejoined the team at Steve's just in time to hear that they were planning to eat Chinese food for dinner. I love the food at this restaurant, but it's also a mosquito-fest, so I made a quick trip to my house to put on an outfit that would keep me covered. As a bonus, it also made me look really cool.

I left Steve's with excitement for Wednesday's events--after Junior's CT scan, I would meet up the team for visits to two of my favorite places in Kitale: the Women's Prison and Shimo la Tewa slum. Can't wait to share those photos and stories with you tomorrow!

First Moms Club

Well, here they are: the attendees of our first women's meeting. I promise they are much happier than they look...no one in this photo was forced to participate--aside from the babies, maybe. (And, for the record, I didn't enhance the glare on this picture; I tried to edit it down so you could see that there was a woman (and not an angel) sitting on the far right. 

On Thursday morning of last week, I woke up with butterflies. The kind I equate with a 12-year old's birthday party: really excited that it's happening and a little nervous that no one will show up--or maybe worse, they'll show up and hate it--thinking through every detail: what will I say? what will they say? how will they leave it? will they want to be my friend once it's over? what if they are giggling about me in Swahili through the whole thing?

Classic 12-year-old (or, 32-year-old) girl.

Well, the women did show up (minus a few who, I'm told, will make it next time.) And they did talk about me in Swahili quite a bit, but it was accompanied with the kind, child-like giggle that accompanies wonder and coloring and new friendship, not the mean teenage girl giggle that accompanies gossip and cruelty. (If you don't know the difference, watch a season or two of Pretty Little Liars.)

I was a little nervous about being late (and driving the car through town in case the police stop was up and they decided to detain me for a bit) so I paced around the center waiting for Phoebe (who was playing my friend/translator/critic/excuse-to-leave-if-things-ran-too-long that morning) to pay for water to be delivered and dole out the daily portions of rice, beans, and laundry soap.

We made it on time, but with no time to spare. And no drinks, since we had to skip our stop in town for time.

Well, the joke was on us--most of the women were at least 15 minutes late...and, upon arrival, visibly saddened by the lack of food or drink (the mark of any good meeting/party/Bible study in my opinion.) We'll get 'em next time.

I introduced myself, read a portion of Ephesians 3, and prayed for our time together. I told the women that my hope for the morning was just to become friends...to spend time getting to know each other (and for them to get to know me) and laughing and talking. Nothing heavy this first time around.

I passed out construction paper and crayons and asked each of them to write their names (a few needed help with this) and draw two pictures: one of their family and one of something they love.

I had made mine ahead of time, as a sample, so while they drew, I held this little guy.

When they finished, I presented mine and then invited each woman up to do the same.

I took a picture of each woman holding her drawing, so I could work on names. (I thought I'd spare you twelve similar photos.) Most of the women had at least one child (I say 'had' because one of the mamas had drawn two babies and, when she explained her drawing, told me both had died.) and many of the women drew pictures to show that they love to sing and dance, and are very proud of their homes. (I told them we'll have a dance party at one of these meetings...it just seemed fitting.)

After we finished with the picture explanations, I brought out three bottles of nail polish and sat on the ground painting toes and fingers and chatting (As best I could in broken Swahili--and with a few women speaking mother tongue (tribal language) instead of Swahili.) One woman kept patting my head and telling me how soft my hair is. The nail painting took about half an hour, which meant we were done early...but I never want to just make up time filler to keep people longer, so I promised to be in-touch about our next meeting date and said goodbye.

Here's a shot of those women once more. Because now you know about the hour and a half leading up to this photo. Would you pick a face and spend a moment praying for her and her family...for all that God is doing in her heart and for her true identity--not as a mother or as a resident of a slum or, for some, a prostitute, but as a child of God--to feel more and more true to her?

After the meeting, I stopped at home in hopes of using the bathroom and grabbing a quick snack, but the lock was stuck and I couldn't get in. I tried, Phoebe tried, the groundskeeper tried...they brought out some oil and we all tried again. Nothing.

So, I went back to the center to figure out my next move.

While I waited, I asked Anet to remove my jigger. (Jiggers burrow in to your foot and lay egg sacks that can then burst and re-burrow...it's just as disgusting and itchy as it sounds.) Anet grabbed a needle and had that thing removed in under a minute, she then brought out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and bandaged me up. She is so kind and patient and servant-hearted. And I'm so grateful that she would pick a big bug out of my dirty foot. (Sammy had said she's the best and most gentle during this process and she was right!)

I called our landlord to see if he has a spare key, which he did not. So I waited around a bit longer, trying to decide what else to do. (I had been told there was no such thing as locksmiths in Kitale...turns out that was a lie.)

Here's adorable Issac with fresh lunch face.

Phoebe and I went back to the house to try the lock again. Our landlord's wife came out to help, but also had no luck unlocking the door. Finally, our landlord came home, with the plumber, and together they jimmied a piece of glass out of the door, used my keys to unlock the inside lock and got us inside. They set to work on the toilet (since he is a plumber, after all) and I set to work covering the giant hole in the door to protect against a mosquito infestation that evening.

All the while, the neighbor boy sat in this chair telling me stories and making animal noises on command. He's really cute and we've become fast friends.

When the toilet was 'fixed' (it's still leaking) and the glass hole was patched, I went to drop Phoebe at the center and then head home to wait for the locksmith and glass repairman (both of whom came the next day instead.

Before I left the center, Marvelous caught me and asked to take her picture with her friends Zippee and Maureen, since she was leaving the next day to spend the month with a house mom in another part of town.

I made myself a delicious bowl of veggies for dinner, finished Bloodline and my book and then headed to sleep...grateful for a really great, adventure-packed day...AND grateful to have made it in to my house and be asleep in my own bed.

On Building: The Best Day, A Good Stir Fry, A New Women's Ministry, and A Children's Home

Here are my favorite photos from the last two days...there are a few dozen more on my facebook page, if you'd like to check them out.

This is Noah. Noah is in Class 1 at Precious Kids Center School. He's super sweet and also hardly ever stops talking. Yesterday, during break, he came up and, in Swahili, walked me through a day--how I ought to go about my day, really. "You wake up and then you go to the kitchen and then you make toast and then you put butter and then you put jam and then you drink tea and then you wash the cup..." All the way through an entire day. Oh, there was a stop at the grocery store in the mid-afternoon of the explanation, which included about a dozen items I should remember to purchase. It's either his voice or his delivery that made the whole ten minute spiel adorable and not at all annoying.

After lunch, I sat on the couch as a stream of kids came through to change clothes (and diapers) before going back to class. I caught a few on the way out the door for pictures. Moses, who typically looks confused in every photo, looked right at the camera and smiled...it's the small victories, folks. (Also, note the strands of drool all over us.)

Oh man, Henry. When I met Henry last year, I got down to his level, looked him in the eye and asked his name. My mistake. He lunged (faster than I could react) and caught a chunk of my hair and held very, very tightly. I was rescued, but have kept a safe distance ever since. On Monday, I came out to find him spinning in circles around Sammy--with this look of immense joy on his face. It's clearly the best moment of his day, caught on film.

Monday afternoon--after about ten days of eating toast, beans, rice, and chicken nuggets (of course)--Sarah (who'd arrived on Sunday evening and whom you'll see in upcoming pictures) had the brilliant idea of buying a bunch of vegetables to cook as a semi-stir fry for dinner. So we headed over to the outdoor market to pick out half a dozen items (all for about $6!) This is the woman that sold them to us...we'll definitely be visiting her again soon! (Since then, we've made TWO pans of veggie stir-fry--one of which was turned in to a fried rice situation--with egg and soy sauce, but minus the rice. AND, I've made pans and pans of roasted garlic cloves--which is what dreams are made of.)

Tuesday morning, I snuck this picture of the baby class practicing their letters. I was hoping to go unseen (and refrain from distracting the entire class) but obviously the kid in the ski jacket spotted me.

Yesterday, while in town running errands, Sammy got a call from Patricia, one of the women I am hoping to work with. (I'm still trying to figure out how to talk about what we're doing while maintaining a level of dignity and anonymity for the women we're working with...please bear with me as I test some things and learn as I go.) She's sort of the ringleader of that community of women--the one who'd told me when I was here in March that, if I started something, she would "bring so many women"--and had been asking Sammy when she and I could meet now that I'm back in town. So, we stopped by to say hello and arrange another time to meet up to begin setting plans in motion for the ministry. (Since then I've reached out to the anti-trafficking organization in Nairobi to begin our partnership AND been in contact with the founders of a church in that area, in effort to set-up a meeting with them...here we go!)

This is her sister Hellen. She's excited for what's to come, too. She also makes beautiful bracelets and necklaces out of paper beads, so we took Sarah (who is hiding in the shadows on the right of this picture) to shop for some souvenirs.


While we were in that slum, Sammy wanted to go by and check on a girl she'd met while I was here in February. This baby, Natasha, who struggles to breathe and can't hold up her own head, has been on Sammy's heart ever since they met. While we were there yesterday, we found out that Natasha's sixteen-year old mom had run off a few months ago...unable or unwilling to attempt to care for a child with special needs. The grandmother and this care-giver are doing their best to provide for Natasha and Sammy is prayerfully processing the best way to support them. We'll take her to see a doctor tomorrow to run a few more tests to try to gain a better understanding of her health and how we can be part of her growth and healing.

One of the parents came to pick up his kids from school yesterday in a van blasting music. Of course the noise drew all of the center kids out front and it rapidly became a dance party! There are so many good moves in this group of kids--lots of hip and booty shaking too, which always makes me laugh!

Based on how dirty he was, it appeared as though Moses had a really eventful afternoon. He was absolutely covered, from head to toe, in dust.

I did a little mending (well, one shirt was completely torn from armpit to waistline) on a couple items of clothing in the last few days. (Junior was so excited to see--and announce to the room--that those were his shorts I was working on.) But, last night, Suzie wanted some attention, too...this was our way of compromising.

Finally, a team from Kansas, who'd come to visit the center earlier this week, joined us for a tour of the new, under-construction, Precious Kids Center. It's always such a treat to see the new location and hear people's awe as they realize how much more space there will be for everyone (and everything) that goes on at the center.

I hadn't been there since the roof was finished (they were aaaaalmost there when I left in March) so it was so fun to see one more huge step completed!

The team walked through the building and then back around to the front to pray over the property, for the construction, for the staff and kids that will live there, and for Sammy.

The next step is windows, toilets/sinks, and then putting the cement on the interior walls. I am really excited to be here and watch as this home is completed. And I really can't wait to watch as the kids move and settle in to their new home!

So many good things to come...

I'm Moving To Kenya(!!!)

I am moving to Kenya.

It feels so great to say that! (I've been waiting until the proper people had been told in-person (parents, landlords, small group girls), before I could shout it from the technological rooftops...but here it is!) 

I'm moving to Kenya...

To pursue the calling God gave me a few years ago: to help END human trafficking on the continent of Africa. This may sound like a huge task...and it is...but God has recently given me a few very specific next steps, the first of which is moving to Kenya.

WHY KENYA? 
To be with single moms (like the beauties above) in the slums around the town of Kitale, Kenya. Many of these women struggle to support their families and turn to prostitution to make ends meet. They are highly susceptible to the empty promises made by human traffickers due to a combination of poor education and desperation for a better life for themselves and their children.

My heart is to help restore their dignity, and remind them (and the surrounding communities that have sidelined, marginalized, forgotten about them) of their true identity and amazing potential to contribute to and participate in society.

HOW?
By building personal relationships with these women, connecting them with local churches and strong, passionate female leaders in their communities who will coach them to better care for their children, for the hygiene of their homes, and to avoid the attractive, yet dangerous, offers of potential traffickers.

I'm also planning to go back to school (yes, in Kitale!) to pursue a master's degree in Counseling Psychology, in hopes of developing more tools to help bring healing and restoration to those who have faced trauma.

WHEN?
I'm planning to leave June 18th. I know--that's so soon! At this point, I'm planning to come back for Christmas, to see my family, reflect on the first six months and reassess. If all goes well, I will return to Kenya for the whole of 2016 and then reassess every December. (But in the one-step-at-a-time way God has been revealing things, I'm holding this plan very loosely.)

I would love for you to be part of this trip in one (or more) of three ways:
Pray: Pray that I would follow God's timing--that I wouldn't rush what He's doing, nor drag my feet in fear. I want, so badly, for Him to map-out a 5-year plan...and yet He is consistently showing me 'the next right step.' Please pray that I trust each step and believe that, one-by-one they will lead to the eradication of modern day slavery in Africa. And join me in praying for freedom for those enslaved. And for the softening of the hearts of those who currently believe it acceptable for humans to be bought and sold.


Give: There are many expenses that come with an international move...and with the start of a new ministry. This money will go toward flights, housing, food and water, and ministry projects. (My dad has, graciously, agreed to pay for my schooling.) I am hoping to have the majority of my funds raised by June 1st. Would you consider giving (one time or monthly) to this new, exciting, adventure? You can give easily by visiting this page: www.gofundme.com/allihibb 

Visit: Come on over! There's a bunk-bed with your name on it. I'd love to take you around the town and introduce you to all of my friends...seriously!

Thank you, so much, for reading this...for being a part of my support system...for helping me to follow this amazing (and, at times, overwhelming) dream God has placed on my heart. (Feel free to share the link to this blog--or my gofundme page--with friends, family members and coworkers whom you think may be interested in joining this fight!) and please continue to follow along with this expedition here.

Love. Love. Love.

A Polish Man, A Kenyan, And An American Walk In To An Office...

(sounds like the beginning of a joke my great-grandpa would have loved!)

In the last month, as I realized my time here was coming to an end and I still was no closer to finding any end (or beginning, really) to human trafficking here in Kenya, I began to wonder if there was something I was missing--or had misheard--in my search...or in what I thought God has told me. 

One night, I spent a few hours (and, nearly all of my internet 'bundle') searching for organizations in the area that are working to identify and rescue victims of trafficking, when I came across HAART. I wrote an email asking if I could come for a visit while in Nairobi. They politely agreed and so, this afternoon, I spent a little over an hour with two of their staff members.

They told me first-hand stories of prevention, rescue, and rehabilitation, answered my questions with amazing humility, ('here's what we've learned...and we're tweaking the workshops every-so-often, based on our on-going research.') and gave me great hope for what the future of my ministry may be.

During the meeting today, they told me: First, that it is difficult for people to believe that Kenya has a trafficking issue because most people don't see what's happening as injustice, (unless they are not being paid--which they are quick to identify as unjust, as has been true of the stories I've heard so far) Second, that they teach workshops to people in slums and rural areas to help them identify human trafficking, how to avoid it, and tell stories of victims of trafficking to help people see the similarities between these stories and their own (and even gave me copies of the documents), and Third, that they've been wanting to extend into Western Kenya (you know, near Kitale...) 

I was trying so hard to play it cool, while also seeing so many pieces fall in to place: the parenting seminar I've dreamed about for years, a way to care for the prostitutes who are trying to provide for their children in the slums, educating the community on ways to identify and avoid being trafficked, connecting them with a thriving and Christ-centered church in their community...it's all there. 

The when and how and who are still a little blurry, but there's plenty of time for all of that to come together. 

For now, I am celebrating God's provision in this one hour meeting. And expressing my gratitude to Him. 

And to you, for praying alongside me in this slow and steady journey that I am so often trying to make in to a race.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow...You're Only A Day Away

Tomorrow afternoon I will be meeting with an anti-trafficking organization (from what I can tell based on a thorough google search, the only anti-trafficking organization in Kenya) in Nairobi.

Would you pray for that meeting?

Pray that I would know the right questions to ask.
Pray that I would hear the opportunities to be involved with what they are doing--and ways to possibly replicate it outside of Nairobi.
Pray for my heart to be reminded that the timeline of all of this is in God's hands...I am not--this trip is not--a failure, nor a success, depending solely on this meeting.

I can't wait to tell you about it.

In fact, I can't wait to tell you about so many other things that my heart has been opened to on this trip.

Many posts: some long, some short, some with photos, and some without, coming soon!

Thanks for reading--and for praying along with me on this crazy adventure!