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.

conversation with the glue dealer

(Photo taken by Ray Smith, 2012)

One of the issues with street boys in Kenya (in many places in the world, actually) is glue. Boys take to the streets and will often begin sniffing glue. Many of the boys that have no families and actually sleep on the streets will do glue to keep warm at night. Imagine wearing torn clothing that barely fits, maybe a pair of ripped flip flops or barefooted, and then sleeping outside with no blankets. With temperatures dropping in the mid to low 40's. It gets cold. Often the glue is sniffed because it dulls the appetite and boys do not feel that they are hungry. If you want more information on it, there was a really well done documentary filmed here in Kitale:  http://glueboys.com/

For a little while now I've been wanting to find the guys who sell the glue to the kids. I've heard different rumors to where they are but I couldn't find any kids that would take me. Yesterday I was with my friend Alex-Juma, who, by the way, is about 8 years old. Yesterday was probably the highest that I've ever seen this kid.  But he did show me the glue salesman. In the photo above you can see a green stand the says Mpesa. On the other side of that stand is a fruit table that sells mangos, bananas... and glue. Interesting combination, isn't it? I walked by this stand yesterday with Alex-Juma and decided that I'd go back again today without him. I wasn't sure how these guys would react and I did not want to put my friend into danger.

Today I went and talked with the guy selling the glue. He was pretty upset when I asked him if he sells glue.  Actually, he got up from his bench and got in my face. Within seconds I was surrounded by 4 or 5 of this dealers friends, all with fists raised. I very quickly explained that I wasn't there to judge him or stop him. I was there to talk to him because I was curious. I wanted to hear his story.

Once he saw that I wasn't a threat to him he calmed down. His friends also backed down. He wasn't willing to talk right there because it "was too public". We went a few yards away outside of a store that was closed. And we talked for 15-20 minutes.  In that time I asked him a lot of questions out of curiosity; and he very honestly answered. To be honest I couldn't understand his name and didn't want to ask him a 3rd time to repeat it. This young man is 20 years old. Here are some of the questions that I wrote down his answers to after I left:

• How long have you been selling glue?
• "Just since 1 year ago"
• How did you get started selling glue?
• "I came to town one day and a friend set me up."
• Why do you start selling glue?
• "I needed a job and couldn't find one. I have finished up to class 8 and had no more money for school" (education past 8th grade is not free in Kenya)
• Do you have parents?
• "No, they died in 2001. I sleep at my brother's home."
• Where do you buy the glue from?
• "A man comes from Mombassa [coastal town, about 16 hours drive away] every Sunday and I buy from him."
• How much do you pay for it?
• "1500 shillings (at the current exchange rate that's $17.65USD) for 5 liters."
• How much do you sell it for?
• He pointed to my water bottle and showed about 1/2 inch and said that much is 30 shillings.
• He said that for every 5 liters he only makes about 200 shillings profit which may be explained by the next question:
• Do you do glue yourself"
• "Yes, I do glue at night from stress of the day"
• How many customers do you have & how do they know to come to you?
• Too many to count.  It changes every day.  The boys tell each other."
• How many others sell glue in Kitale and do they charge the same?
• "Yes, others sell too but not sure how many. The prices are about the same anywhere here."
• Do you want to sell glue forever?
• "No, I want to go back to school one day and be an engineer [mechanic]."
• Can you set money aside each week to pay for that?
• "No, I spend everything right away."
• When do you sell glue?
• "I am here today, yesterday and probably tomorrow and some other days.  From 7AM-7PM"
• Is glue good or bad?
• "Glue is very bad for you."
• Does it bother you to sell glue to kids when you know that it's bad for them?
• "No, it doesn't bother me at all. It's my job."
• Can I take your picture?
• "No, I don't like cameras. People come from churches and take pictures to get money for themselves."  

I left this young man after our conversation in shock of his honesty. I left with a lot more knowledge than I had moments before. Based on the questions, in red I am inclined to believe him. Of all the questions to lie about, those two would be the ones. He knows that it is wrong. But he doesn't see any other way to make a living. You see, for him this is not an issue of right and wrong. No, it is not that black and white. For this young man this is an issue of life and death. Sell glue to kids and live. Don't sell it and starve to death.  

To tell this young man that he's wrong doesn't matter to him because in his mind this is the only job is can have; it's also the only he feels worthy of having (which is a much deeper issue that deserves w blog all alone). I am by no means saying that he is right. But I am saying that in order for him to stop selling, he needs to see a new path that allows life.

And which of us can honestly and justly judge him for making a living the only way he knows how? Which of us can say that we would not do the same thing if we were in his position? 

"Do you really love your baby?"

I feel like every day I am in town is a new adventure - and I love it!  There is one particular woman that I see nearly every day I am in town.  I think that most people in Kitale have seen her.  She walks around with a baby strapped to her back while begging for money.  I've never given her money in all my time here.  You may be thinking that's terrible; what about the baby?  But let me explain that while the baby is surely suffering, giving her anything at all does no good for her baby.  In more cases than not when encountering her she smells like alcohol and acts very drunk.  A few weeks ago I was talking with her and asked her if she would like me to help her find a job so she doesn't have to beg anymore.  Her answer was, "no, just give me money".  The past few days I've been seeing her she still comes to me and points to her baby and puts her hand out.

I saw her from down the road a bit today.  I happened to be walking the direction that she was in.  As I walked I saw her elbow her baby in the face to make him cry (because apparently a crying baby gets more sympathy).  It wasn't just one little nudge either.  She wound up and whacked him good.  She then reached around and smacked him a few more times.

Seeing that I decided to stop and give her a talking to.  I tried explaining to her that she can't just hit her baby like that.  A local stopped to translate to make sure that she understood.  I know she speaks and understands English to some degree, still though, it was nice to have someone translate.  As I asked her if she would like someone to elbow her in the face like she just did to her baby all she could do was tell me to give her money.  Yes, she told me to.  She didn't ask - she demanded.

I reminded her of my offer to help her find a job and of her response.  It didn't seem to get through that she is quite capable of working.  Then I asked her a hard question.  "Do you really love your baby?"  I told her that if she really did care for that child in the way that a mother should, she would have taken the opportunity to find a job to support her and her baby.  Again, the answer that came through the one translating was another demand for money as he pointed to the baby.  

I have quite a few friends at home who, in the past couple of years, have become parents.  I am encouraged by a common theme amongst all of them:  sacrifice.  It's so awesome to watch as my friends' lives become more and more about their child.  It's evident how much these parents love their children.  It's evident when they begin giving things that they enjoy up because they desire more to be with their child at night.  Or when they give things up because they are saving money for the baby.  And then I look to this lady in town and I seriously question if she feels anything at all for that baby she carries around.  It seems like that child to her is just a way to tug on peoples' hearts to get more money from them.

I've been accused by a few older street boys of being selfish because I won't hand out money; they say that I have so much and won't help others.  But the truth is that when someone asks for help, I do help.  There is only one person I have peace about giving money for food to and that's my friend Peter that I took to the hospital in December.  Others, who want me to give them money or buy them food I take them to the schools for street kids that will feed them at no charge while proving a free education.  I don't believe that a constant hand out does any good.  In fact, it just ensures that someone remains dependent on me.  It may make me feel good that someone needs me, but it doesn't help them.  I know that I could buy this lady some bread when I see her.  I'm sure that I could afford that.  But would it do any good?  What she needs is an opportunity to support herself.  What her baby needs is a mother who is sober.  And this is what was offered and in turn refused.  As much as it may suck, there comes a point when you realize that you can only help the ones that actually want to be helped.  Right now, this lady doesn't want help.  I pray that one day she truly does want that help.  I pray that she sobers up and starts to be more that a walking stroller to her baby and becomes a mother.

But for now, I'll focus on those who are interested...