How was Africa?

Tomorrow I will be back in the US for 3 weeks.  I still haven't really unpacked.  Seriously, my passport is still in my laptop bag.  I have a few dollars in US currency, a few thousand shillings (sounds more impressive than it really is) and a few Euro all in the same bag.

A question that so many seem to keep asking is "How was Africa?"  I wish that there was a simple answer but there isn't.  Africa was great.  It was an incredible experience to live there for 6 months.  Seriously, I never expected that I would spend so much time overseas.  I always imagined possibly going to Germany one day but I always had an irrational fear of flying over the ocean.  I wasn't afraid of the plane crashing in the ocean.  No, even crazier (do you expect anything else from me?) - I was afraid that the plane would crash and I'd live and get eaten by a shark.  I know, crazy.  But the point is that I never dreamed of living overseas for any amount of time.

Being back now has been...difficult.  I think that I'm going through more culture shock coming back to the US than I did going to Kenya.  I keep having to remind myself not to judge people for their actions because they haven't had the same experiences that I had.  I started a part time job with the last company I worked for.  It's strange.  I haven't had a job in 6 months.  Now I'm back to working.  It feels so...well, dull and lifeless.  There are no orphans to hang out with.  There are no street kids to play checkers with.  There are no random power outages to deal with.  I guess it's more than work that seems dull.  To be honest, most things do.  I mean, I love begin around people back here.  It's been great to see so many awesome people.  At the same time, I find myself longing for home back in Kenya (I promise to post more about this soon...).  I was talking to my friend Ryan yesterday and he asked me when it comes to day-to-day life and culture, which do I prefer.  I said Kenya.  It may not have a choice of 5 Starbucks within 10 miles of me to choose from.  But when I do get that good cup of coffee from somewhere, I love it!  Things seem to slow down and become a more restful pace in Kenya.  Things seem to really make sense there.  Even when they don't really make sense, it does my the simple phrase "this is Africa".

I'm feeling lately that people expect me to be over joyed to be back and full of laughter all the time.  And I am joyful to be with people here.  But lately I feel like I'm wearing a mask and pretending to be more enthused than I really am.  But on the inside, I'm homesick now.

I don't know if this makes any sense at all.  Thank you Wegmans for your free wifi in your marketplace!

A few favorite photos from Kenya

I was going through some photos and thought I'd share a few favorites and why...

This is from the time I went to talk to the local glue dealer.  The conversation he and I had was one of the most enlightening conversations I had the entire 6 months.  It's so easy to judge from a distance.  It's harder to judge him when you hear his story.  When you make time to spend with him you realize that he's looking for someone to show him compassion too.

This is my friend Alex.  He is 15 years old and he sleeps on the ground behind this building we're standing on.  Alex is a great kid to talk to and lots of fun.  He tells me that "one day" he'll quit glue.  I certainly hope that "one day" comes soon.  He spends about 50 shillings a day on glue - that's 350 shillings a week.  To give you an idea on this, you can rent a cheap apartment for 600 shillings a month...

This is Martin.  Martin is a walking, talking, breathing miracle!  I first met Martin three ago at his sister's funeral.  Martin is HIV positive and lives at Transformed International's children's home called the Veronica Home (names after his sister).  Three years ago when I was first to Kenya and only a few days after his sister was buried Martin got sick.  The doctors said that he wouldn't live through the night.  The team that I was in Kenya with didn't agree and we got together and prayed over this young boy's life.  Imagine the surprise of the doctors to come in to work the next day and not only see Martin still alive but moving around!  Go ahead, look at this picture for a while - this picture that was taken a few months ago, three years after Martin was supposed to die - and tell me that God isn't in the miracle business.

I love this picture!  First, you should note that I'm IN the photo...so who took it?  Another of the street boys took this picture on my camera.  I love this because it represents the relationship that I had with some of these boys.  These are boys had a deep trust for me and I trusted them.  They never tried to steal anything from me.  One day I left my sunglasses on the ground and one of them came running up to me and handed me my glasses.  These kids knew that I cared for them and they reciprocated.

Okay, this was just awesome!  In Kitale street boys are considered a nuisance.  It's not very common to see someone taking the time to talk with a street boy.  It's even less common to see what you see here.  This man runs a small shop just down the street from here.  After a few days of seeing me with the kids he finally came up to us and asked if he could play a game of checkers.

Something else about this photo is the boy he is playing checkers with.  Notice how his shorts aren't yet ripped and his shirt is rather clean?  I saw this young boy on what was likely his first day in town as a street boy.  As the days turned into weeks his appearance changed.  The shirt that was once buttoned all the way to the top became undone.  The clean clothing soon became ripped and dirty.  It was sad to see his transition.

Alex-Juma.  I'll go ahead and say it.  Alex-Juma was my favorite to spend time with.  He loved playing with that little red ball.  Alex-Juma is one of the many street boys that have families back at home.  His family forces him into this lifestyle to earn money for the family.  A child that young should not be the one making money for his family.  He should be a kid.  He should be outside playing.  He should be in school learning.  For a short time during the day, Alex-Juma played.  He was a kid again.

 I can't recall his name.  But this photo represents life to these boys.  "Life" is found in a bottle of glue.  Yet again, we can sit and judge while looking at photos like this on our laptops.  But let's be honest for a bit - I'll start...If I was wearing as little clothing as these boys wear, walking barefooted and hungry.  If I was beaten by security guards and rejected by everyone that should love me.  If I lived like that and then had to sleep on a dirt or cement ground at night and someone gave me a bottle of glue to help me sleep and numb the pain of my heart...I'd probably do it too.  I'd like to say that I wouldn't, but I can't.  After a few days - a few weeks maybe? - in that life, I'd probably do it too.  That doesn't make it right by any means.  But it does shed some light on things.

My attempt to be artsy with a shot from above.

This was a fun day!  After spending weeks with these boys I decided that it was time to do something new.  I bought some bread and make PB&J sandwiches.  We spend a few hours hanging out that morning and by lunch time I sat down and gave them all some PB&J.  And I sat there, on the ground next to the main street, ate lunch with them.  I showed them that I wasn't ashamed to be seen with them at all.  And when town locals asked for a sandwich, I told them no, this was food for my friends here.

These two pictures are special for a reason that will come in another blog soon.  I have it written, but before I put it here I want to talk to some family first.

How can you say no to that face?  This is Regan and he is the son of Virginia and Ben, the house parents at the Veronice Home.  Regan is an awesome little guy!  He's cute and he knows it too!  He's a mischievous one and loves to goof around and have fun.

This is Peter Lojore.  I've talked about him a lot in my blogs.  This was shortly after I had him discharged from the hospital.  They wanted him to stay there for 6-8 weeks to let the bone heal.  The doctors there treated him poorly and were already not giving him his medicine.  When I discharged him they made it clear that they wouldn't be held responsible if anything happened to him (they even made me sign a waiver).  My reply:  "you haven't been responsible with him since the day I brought him in so what's the difference?"

Hard to believe that this is the same man, isn't it?  This was after Peter had taken his first bath in a long time (he actually forgot how to bathe, it had been that long).  Sadly, 3 days after this picture was taken Peter went back to the first picture.  He chose street life over the home we got him into.

This guy was a fun guy!  He is one of the conmen that threaded to kill me many times.  He and another man that is a pastor were in charge of the group.  They had a scam and made off with tons of money each day.  Finally, I had enough and I started warning everybody that I saw them scamming.  After a few people walked away from them these guys began to shout threats about cutting my head off with a machete.  The old me may have run away scared.  But I didn't.  I made it my goal to walk by them a few times every day. And I began to teach the kids in this photo and the locals in the area about standing up against evil.  The locals who worked around here would always thank me for standing up to these guys.  I told them that they need to do the same if they want a chance.  In December this man here told me that they will "never be arrested" and that they "are bigger than the government".  I told him that one day his bribes to the police won't be enough anymore and he'll be in jail.  And I'll be laughing.  Just before Christmas the police finally stopped taking the bribes and arrested the whole gang.  And I laughed.  A lot.  I still laugh thinking about it!  :)

Some things were really fun!  I rode a camel.  It was a short ride at a local fair type thing.  But it was a great time.

Speaking of fun, this was awesome!  This was a few of us from the day we went snorkeling.  Kenya sits along the coast of the Indian Ocean so we went there for Thanksgiving.  What a great time!  This was my first time snorkeling and I loved every minute of it!  And the people in this picture are really amazing.

Why do we do it?

A while ago I learned to stop asking the question "why God.  Why did this happen?" and start asking "what am I to learn from this?".  A few weeks before I left Kenya the resolve to ask these types of questions was put to the test.

It felt so good to help Peter.  I watched as he went from a street boy who probably would have died when i first met him, to a boy with a future and a  hope. No longer was he an orphan but he was a member of a family.  Then, 3 days later I watched him choose to go back to being a street boy.  It was a devastating and crushing blow.  I felt like helping Peter gave me a purpose for this trip.  When he ran away I felt as though he took my sense of purpose with him.  I cannot even begin to describe just how much that hurt me.  How badly I was crushed and brought to tears over it.

Last night was my first night back to my home church - Providence of West Chester (Check them out - we love visitors and it's a no judgement zone!).  A few months ago they had me make a video in which I talked about helping Peter on the streets.  A few weeks ago was Global Missions Sunday and the story of Peter getting off of the streets was told.  I listened to that podcast forcing back tears of disappointment.  I wished that it was still true but the hard truth was that before that message was preached, Peter was gone.  But not everyone at Providence knew this and last night was hard.  I was met with many people asking about Peter and so many pleasant remarks towards Peter and that story.  A few said how it touched them and they were so proud of that story.  Do you know how difficult it is to look people in the eyes after that and tell them it didn't work out?  Well, neither do I.  At least not the looking in the eyes part.  I started to feel a bit ashamed of how everything turned out.

I was talking to the lead pastor, Phil Carnuccio.  I told him that I was still trying to figure out the lesson here.  Then he told me what my heart knew but my mind needed to hear.  In a few seconds, in a few short words, he told me the lesson.  Actually, one word sums it up.  Obedience.  We help others because we're being obedient to God.  We do not help others because we hope that they will show gratitude or because we desire a set outcome.  We help others because in Matthew 25:40 Jesus says that "whatever you have done to the least of these you have done to me...".  We help because we're being obedient.

Do I wish that there was a different outcome here?  Of course I do!  Would I do the whole thing over again?  YES!  I would do it all over again because it was the right thing to do.  It was obedient.  Maybe the whole process was for me to learn that?  Maybe there was something planted in Peter that will stay with him for a long time.  I may never see the end result.  There may still be a great ending to the story of Peter Lojore and I may not have the honor of seeing it.  And that's okay!  Because I was obedient in helping him when I did, Peter saw hope where there was none before.  That hope will always linger in him.  And one day he may cling back to that hope with his very last breath.  For now, I'll keep enough hope for the two of us.

I have no regrets

I've been avoiding writing this blog for a little while now.  Sitting on my flight back to the US seems as good a time as any.  

Some of you have been following the story of Peter Lojore, a street boy that I took to the hospital just before Christmas.  When I first met Peter I knew that I had to do something for him.  He was really in bad shape and no one else around cared enough to do anything.  As the weeks went by I began to spend more time with Peter.  I looked forward to my visits with Peter in town.  

During those times I thought about more ways to help him.  Peter seemed like he really wanted to get off of the streets.  So a few weeks ago I began talking with my friend Daniel Juma who runs a children's home.  Juma often takes in street boys and does very well with them.  

Because Peter is a bit older we decided that it would be best to get Peter his own place just around the corner from Juma.  We found a place that was in the right in our price range and got it set up.  I needed a sponsor from back in the States to sponsor Peter monthly, at least until his leg was healed and he could begin to work again.  I posted something on Facebook and within a day I had a sponsor for Peter.  I got a hold of a bed for Peter and a few essential items and we moved him into his new home.  It was such a joy to see Peter in a home and off of the streets.  

About 3 days later my phone rang; it was Juma with some disappointing news.  Peter ran away.  After 3 days of living in a home, sleeping in a bed and eating food he had had enough and ran off.  Peter took the sugar that he was bought and sold it to pay for transport back to town.  I went to see him the next morning and he had so many excuses for running away.  He began to tell me that Juma was conning me and ripping me off.  Here's where I got really upset with Peter.  I've known Juma for years now and he is one of the most honorable men I've ever met.  I gave Juma some money to pick things up and without me asking, he always presented me a receipt.  There is no way he was conning me.  Not Daniel Juma.  

Peter's now been back on the streets for a couple of weeks.  His leg is getting worse all the time.  Juma found a doctor that wanted to treat his wounds free of charge.  Peter has a very deep cut on his ankle (on the same leg that is broken).  This doctor said that if it isn't treated properly, Peter will lose his leg.  It's evident that it's already infected.  My piki driver friends in town tell me that Peter can no longer walk across the street and he has to be pushed on a bicycle. 

I haven't seen Peter in town now for a few days.  I worry about what may have happened to him.  To be honest, part of me wonders if he's still alive now.  As disappointing of an ending as this is to this story, I have no regrets at all.  Not a single one.  From the moment I first met Peter I knew that I had to do something.  I couldn't just leave him there.  had I ignored him I am convinced that he would have died that day.  I do not regret at all getting him into a home.  That too was the right thing to do based on the circumstances.  Maybe I was fooled by his attitude.  Maybe I still use don't have a clear enough grasp on how tight a grip the street life culture can have on these guys.  No matter what, helping his was still the right thing to do.  No, scratch that.  It was the human thing to do.  And i'd do it over again without a second thought.  

I'm going to be a great dad!

My friend Adam and I just watched the movie Courageous.  I definitely think that it's a movie that all dads should watch.  Right from the beginning I was hooked.  The opening scene is of a man stopping for gas.  As he turns around to pick up the window washing squeegee someone runs over and steals his truck.  This man turns around and climbs onto the window and starts fighting with the car thief.  Barely hanging on he causes the truck to swerve and finally crash into a tree.  The thief runs out and gets away.  But what happened next was incredible.  The man is thrown to the ground and crawls over to the truck.  Another car had stopped and told him to stay still and not worry about the truck.  He responds that he isn't worried about the truck as he opens the back door to check on his baby boy in the car seat.  It reminded me of the only happy memory I have of my biological father.  We were at a BBQ and swimming.  I remember going over to the pool when no one was watching and trying to jump into a round inflatable (I'll admit it - I haven't grown out of that adventure yet!).  I missed as the inflatable floated away and I sank to the bottom of the pool.  The next thing I remember is my dad jumping in the pool, fully clothed, and pulling me out.  Strangely, I remember his watch, of all things, still on his wrist and not working after.  I remember that my father saved me without concern for his belongings.

As the movie went on there were more encounters with dads (mostly all police officers) and their kids.  Another powerful moment is when two of the cops were driving while off duty.  The one dad had his daughter in the back and they were waiting for the other cop to come out of a building.  The daughter's favorite song came on the radio and she got out of the car and begged her dad to dance with her.  The dad was more concerned about what other people would think and he refused.  He told her that he was "dancing with her in his heart", but from inside the car he just watched.

There were more examples as these fathers began to really understand their roles as dads and as husbands.  As I watched more, I saw more and more how important it is for fathers to be their for their children; not just provide a roof over their heads.  Dads need to BE THERE for their kids.  Do things that their kids want to do, even if they hate it.  Earlier we watched an episode of the new show Person of Interest.  In it a character talks about how his dad walked out on him but always send him $200 a week.  One day he went and found his dad who had a new family.  The dad just gave him another $200.  The character said that he didn't want the money.  What he wanted was a dad.

My biological father was a drunk, abusive man - not a good role model.  But yet, that one memory of him can still bring me to tears because I know that on some level, at some point, he must have cared - even if it was just a little.  I have an amazing man that I now call my dad from when I was adopted.  He took me out back and taught me to throw a ball.  He taught me to ride a bike.  We went camping and took day trips together.  He came to my concerts when I was in the band in school.  My dad was present.  Since I've been coming to Kenya he has been incredible!  He's been so supportive of my decisions in every aspect.  I call my dad and start telling him current events here and he knows most of it because he's keeping on up Kenyan news.  Sometimes he knows more than I do and I've been living here for nearly 6 months now!

While I'm definitely not a father yet, nor will I be anytime in the near future, I can honestly say that I look forward to fatherhood.  I know that when I have children they will be my priority.  In that first scene two police officers were talking about how the man wouldn't let go of that steering wheel when his truck was being stolen.  The one asked the other, "there are a lot ways he could have died there.  Would you have kept holding that wheel?".  Such a thought provoking question!  Look from a different angle.  Your child;s life may not be in danger as your car is being stolen, but his heart is in danger!  Will you hold onto it so tight that you are willing to sacrifice anything for him?  What I mean is will you sacrifice your time to spend it with your son?  Will you sacrifice your pride and dance with your daughter in the park?  Will you sacrifice your income to live below your means so that you can be present with your wife and kids?  Ultimately, will you sacrifice your life to save your child's?

Up until a few years ago the thought of having my own kids scared me half to death.  I was filled with fear that I would turn out like my biological father.  But after taking the time to heal those wounds in my heart, I now know that my kids will grow up with a dad who is there.  Not just financially or physically there.  A father who is there emotionally and spiritually too.  I know that I won't be a perfect dad; I'll make my share of mistakes, but I'll be a great dad when that time comes.

What's next?

Two weeks from tomorrow I go back "home".  Home...not really sure where that is anymore.  I've certainly come to realize that home is not as simple as a physical location.  In two weeks this 6 month adventure comes to an end.  I had some plans worked out for when I got home; those plans fell apart.  While it's definitely a scary thought of going back to the USA without a job waiting for me, it's also very exciting.  My future is now as blank as this blog page was before I started typing.  Right now, I can go anywhere.  I can do anything.  That's what excites me.  I know without a doubt that this was the right time to come to Kenya for 6 months.  I also know that the same God that led me here for this time will continue to lead me in two weeks.

In Wild at Heart John Eldridge quotes that "the glory of God is man fully alive".  I love this!  I'm sad to say that I somewhat ignored it for a while before coming to Kenya.  I held a job that my heart wasn't really in.  I'm not trying to badmouth that company in anyway.  But it just wasn't my passion.  My biggest fear about going back to the US is finding myself in the same position:  taking a job to make ends meet and waking up three years later to realize that I'm not happy; I'm not alive in that job.

So what does this mean for the next step?  I'm not sure.  I have been offered a position with another ministry in Kenya (one that I can really get behind).  The position would allow me to really pursue my passions.  I'd be working with youth and I'd be able to do some prayer ministry with them - helping these young boys find healing from wounds of their past.

I haven't accepted that offer, but I know that it's there.  I've been job searching a bit too.  I know that something will come up.  I'm eager to see what direction appears on my blank slate!  Does that mean coming back to Kenya?  Does that mean a different country?  Does it mean a job that allows me to pursue my passions in the US?  I don't know.  But I do know that I'll be taken care of.

While this transition time is frightening because of the unknowns, it's going to be a great period of growth.  I will miss so many things about Kenya when I go back home.  I will miss so many people here.  But I'm also looking forward to seeing my family and friends in the US too.  I look forward to sharing stories.  I look forward to hearing more about how they are doing and what is going on in their lives.

So, what's next?  Good question...

It brings tears to my eyes

Just before Christmas I wrote about my friend Peter Lojore.  You can read his story here:  Peter's story

In December I didn't realize that there would be this kind of a follow up story; one that brought me to tears yesterday.

Peter spent about 10 days in the hospital.  He had broken his right leg which was casted.  Thanks to a Christmas check from a grandmother at home, I was able to pay for all of Peter's medical expenses.  As I went to find Peter a pair of crutches I met a hospital administrator that recognized me from when I brought Peter in.  Normally, a pair of crutches would have cost about 5000 Shillings with at the exchange rate then would have been about $50.  This admin offered me a pair that was in great shape and used once for 1000 shillings (about $10).  Peter left the hospital that day with a cast on his leg, fed and with a pairs of crutches. Unfortunately, because of his injuries Peter was unable to go back to his job and has been forced to beg for money and/or food in the streets.  The more I talked to Peter over the past couple of weeks the more it became clear that Peter really wants to work and get off of the street.  Here's where it gets good!

On Wednesday of this week I sat down with my friend Daniel Juma.  Juma runs a children's home just a few minutes away from here.  He specializes in working with street boys.  In fact, many years ago Peter actually lived in Juma's home.  There were some issues with the missionary sponsoring Peter at the time and eventually, Peter went to live with a local pastor.  The pastor ended up not taking care of Peter and that's when he took to the streets not knowing where else to go.  I talked to Juma about taking Peter in if I could find him a sponsor.  The organization that I am partnering with in Kitale, Transformed International, agreed to handle the sponsorship funds that came in for Peter.  Juma was very excited about the idea but asked me to first talk to Peter and make sure he would be willing.

Yesterday I met with Peter in the afternoon and asked if there was a family he would want to live with.  He mentioned Juma and that he would like to go back there.  When I told him that I would make that happen for him his smile was so bright!  He was so happy that he was forcing back tears.  I left town that day in tears with how happy I was that this was becoming a reality.  All I was left with was the task of finding a sponsor.

After putting something up on Facebook, I am pleased to say that Peter's sponsorship is now set!  Soon, Peter will can move into Juma's home - a 5 acre farm.  There, Peter will have a job of helping regulate the water supply to a greenhouse that Juma is building, something that he can do while sitting down and finally resting his broken leg.  As his leg heals, Juma said he will give Peter a section of the farm to grown a crop to sell and begin to support himself.  During the first month Peter will be given a bed, a mattress and a blanket.  More importantly, Peter is being given a chance to LIVE.  He is being given a family that will love him and care for him.  A family that will not judge him for being a street boy.  He's being given the life he was meant to have back.  Three days ago Peter was a 23 year old street boy with a very bleak future ahead of him.  Today, Peter has hope of a bright and happy future.

I think of the life that Peter will now have and it brings tears of great joy to my eyes.