01/02/2010 The Congo Slums

Thirteen years ago I have vivid memories of being at church camp and feeling a strong call to mission work. Since then, I have had a burden upon my heart for the people of Kenya, Africa. It has taken me 13 years to finally get here, but I was so excited when I learned that my wonderful husband had gotten me a ticket to go with him on the mission trip I've felt "called" to since high school. Africa was something I oculd do to serve the Lord. I could love those people. I could hold those babies and "be Jesus" to those who I would come in contact with. I could do this. Until today. We were dropped off in the slums of Nairobi today - in the Congo Slum - the worst of the worst. I walked around trying to take it all in, and was sickened by what I saw. There were thousands of people milling around these tiny streets that were covered in trash. They don't have trash pick-up in the slums, so everything ends up just littering the streets. We didn't just see people, however. We also saw goats, sheep, cows and even chickens running wild, eating what they could, relieving themselves where they wanted to, and living amonst the thouseand of people. I saw people sitting washing the shoes of those where were perhaps a bit better off and could afford someone to scrub their shoes with their bare hands. You see, they needed their shoes scrubbed desperately because their is no sewage system in the slum, either. There were many streams running through the streets that you had to walk around or jump over because they were not streams of water, but of human waste. I watched a little boy bring a bucket out of his "home" and dump it into the stream of sewage. I watched little children completely barefoot running alongside these streams, playing, jumping, laughing, working, caring for siblings, etc. I saw babies who's families didn't have enough money for diapers, so they'd run around with bare bottoms. While our pictures do show a bit of the desolation, they cannot capture the stench that permeated the entire slum. Someone described it as raw sewage mixed with marijuana and alcohol. I've never smelled marijuana, so I cannot attest to the accuracy of that statement, however, I can say that it was so strong that it took your breath away and made you sick to your stomach. I had to fight back the gag reflex many times today. I just cannot imagine. People live like this. It's their normal life. I was amazed at the children. They were so excited to see us and we gained quite the gathering while we walked through their streets. At some points, I was absolutely fighting the urge to panic, because there were so many children surrounding us: posing for pictures, trying to hold our hands, etc, that I couldn't see our whole group. It scared me. I couldn't imagine being lost in those slums. I'm certain that I wouldn't survive. And yet this is where these people live. Babies live here. Babies who don't have diapers, who can't take baths, and who play with deflated bicycle tires for their toys. What would I do if I had to raise my babies here? Wow. I found myself struggling greatly today. Not only was I shocked to see and smell what I saw, but I was shocked at myself, and my reaction to all of this. I always knew that I could love the people of Africa. This was something I had dreamed of for years. I could do this. Until I got here. And I didn't want the children to come near me. I didn't want to touch them. They walk around in raw sewage all day. It's all over them. They're filthy. Their clothes are dirty and they don't smell good. They haven't washed their hair in perhaps years and you can easily see the build-up of crud on their scalps. And yet they want to be touched. They come right up to you with huge smiles and their faces and want to hold your hand. They place your hand on their dirty, smudged faces and on top of their heads just to feel the warmth of your touch. They wanted to be loved. I had a little girl on each hand today as we walked; and I didn't want to. I cringed. I didn't know what to talk about. I didn't know how to react. How can I do this, Lord? How in the world can I love these people? Help me to get past appearance, filth, stench, and love these people with Your love, Your grace, Your compassion. Because I cannot do this on my own. I did hold their hands. And I did try to talk to them. They said they knew who Jesus was because of the good the Hope Center does in the midst of their slum. We sang "Jesus Loves Me" together, and one little girl sang me some songs in Swahili and in Kikuyu (her tribal dialect). So I'm trying. I'm praying and am just TRYING to love them at this point. But right now, I feel numb. And I just don't know how to do this. So pray that while we (I) are in a place of inadequacy that the Lord will fill us with His presence and that He would meet the needs of His people through us. I know we cannot do it on our own. It's raining here tonight. Here I sit in a nice dry hotel with a full tummy while thousands of people just 10 miles away sit in the slums of Nairobi in their homes with water pouring in, hungry and trying to stay dry as they sleep. Yet, they'll still be at church tomorrow with a smile on their face and without a single complaint. It sure is a lot to think about.