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From Geoffrey to you; She Died

Saturday, July 18th, 2009

I was with Janet this morning and she was really excited because someone was planning on taking her to see her mother tomorrow. I went to the hospital today to check on Janet’s mother. She passed away yesterday… I have had tears built up in my eyes since they told us. We are going to sit down and break the news to Janet tonight and I am dreading it. PLEASE PRAY for this situation. I have no idea how we are going to pay for the funeral. I have no idea who is going to be helping Janet with her daily tasks. I have no idea how Janet is going to be able to pay the rent or for food. Her eye sight is improving, but it still has a long way to go. I have been visiting with this family about every day for the past few months. I love them so much and this hurts really bad. Please pray for me this is really difficult for me to cope with.

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From Geoffrey to you; Kenyan Lovin

Thursday, July 16th, 2009

Thursday July 16, 2009

Kenyan Lovin’

Between the books I have been sent and carvings I have purchased I don’t think I am going to have room to bring anything else back home with me. As impressed as I am with the carvings there is something even more impressive that I want to bring back home.

By now you should all be familiar with Janet and the miraculous healing that has taken place in her eyes. There is a little nook in my heart for Janet, her daughter and her mother, I visit with them each day and each day we travel further along on our journey with whatever book I happen to be reading to her. I think you need to understand that Janet’s mother, Elizabeth, is the sole provider for Janet and her granddaughter Annett. Selling fruits and vegetables along the side of the road to travelers enables Elizabeth to pay cover all of the basic necessities for the family and with Janet’s eye sight still recovering she isn’t able to work.

About a week and a half ago Elizabeth got sick. At first everyone assumed it was malaria or pneumonia and figured with the right medication she would be recovered within a few days, but that isn’t the case. This sickness has gone from being a common illness to somewhat deadly. She was hospitalized two days ago and it appears as if she has yellow fever, which is very bad. She isn’t able to take food and is very weak. She is receiving treatment from the hospital but she is doing very poorly. Someone being sick with yellow fever is a bad enough situation, but what about the fact that she is the provider for Janet and Annett. Without Elizabeth working there is little money for the basic needs for Janet and Annett and Janet is in no condition to work in her mothers place. What is fortunate for Janet and Annett is that they live here in Masii where there is an abundance of genuine love for one another to the extent that others are willing to step in when storms arise.

A few neighbors made the arrangements and collected money for Elizabeth to be taken to the hospital. Different members of our church and different friends have been preparing meals and brining food for Janet and Annett. Different church members have stepped up and donated money to help pay for Janet and Annett’s needs. It seems like throughout the day Janet has more visitors coming to her house than she knows what to do with because of the overwhelming amount of compassion that the people here feel for her and her family, I think they have taught me what compassion is.

I realize that there is a big difference between compassion and pity and at times I find it is easy to confuse the two. When I see someone in a bad situation and feel bad and leave it at that then I have pity for them. If I walk down the street and see a homeless man starving and say sorry and that is it, I have pity for him. Have you ever looked up the word “compassion” in the gospels, time and time again it says that “Jesus was filled with compassion” or “He felt compassion for them,” he felt compassion, not pity, for people in need and then he would feed them or heal them. Being filled with compassion seems to mean to be moved to do what you can to better a situation. I now realize that compassion isn’t looking down on a situation and noting that it is a sad story, no compassion is loving someone so much that seeing them in a painful situation pains your soul. With compassion comes action, words are cheap, and I am called to have compassion and to be filled with compassion for others.

Those who know about Janet’s situation were filled with compassion and felt compassion for her, they didn’t look down on her situation and have pity, no they were so overwhelmed with compassion for Janet, Annett and Elizabeth that they felt compelled to step in and do what they were able to; this is what I want and this is the type of man I want to be. I don’t want to take pity on people, as I wouldn’t want people to take pity on me, I want to genuinely care for others so deeply that I can’t bear to see them in pain and that I am so filled with compassion that I take action for them.

In him,

Geoffrey

Prayer Request:
Janet’s mother Elizabeth
The family I wrote about last time
Our three day evangelism
The Travels of Rose Mutunga over here
I am preaching on Sunday
Stacy’s wheelchair… hoping it will come tomorrow

Praise report:
Janet went to the eye clinic Tuesday and they said her surgery was a success. Her sight is going to continue to improve!!! I have been taking some video of Janet and recording her story and I am going to make it into a short video for you guys (probably five or ten minutes).

Randoms:
I am headed off to the city to spend a few hours with the boy I sponsor, Stephen, and to check on Janet’s mother and to check on the status of Stacy’s wheelchair. Tomorrow is going to be a good day
I just got back from visiting a elementary school with a few hundred kids, I tell you I LOVE the kids here. I think that the best part is that a lot of them haven’t seen too many white people or haven’t been exposed to too many since this is more of a rural area and they are really scared or timid around me. So we went into the principals office and all of the kids came RUNNING towards us and gathered around the door to take a gander at me. By the time we were walking out of the office almost all of them had come… I started walking to our car and then I ran at them and yelled (I just about always do this with all of the little kids, it makes them laugh because it is something you wouldn’t expect). All of the kids ran back a few steps and started laughing! They just about all got startled. I don’t know if you would consider it a game or what but I always seem to do that with the kids. I remember at our last youth camp a lot of the kids would come outside and circle around me, I would jump at them or snatch a kid and pick him up in the air and they would run away yelling and laughing, then they would all come back two seconds later for me to do it again.

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From Geoffrey to you; When a drizzle turns to a down pour

Tuesday, July 14th, 2009

Tuesday July 14, 2009

When a drizzle turns to a down pour

There is a young girl who comes to our church who is always beaming and has a smile from cheek to cheek, and who loves to run, play and dance with all of the other children. The pastor and I were a little disturbed when it had been brought to our attention that she was going around and asking all of the children at school for food during lunch because her family didn’t have anything to eat. We had also heard that her mother was very sick. So on Sunday night William and I paid a visit her home and see what was going on. The darkness was overwhelming when we walked up to the little mud hut and, to be completely honest, under the cover of the darkness I started to cry when we walked into this home and I understood what this family was going through. I don’t think that anything could have prepared me for what William and I found within this small hut. When we came inside they tried to light their lantern but the fuel run out really quickly. For the few moments that their lantern stayed lit you could see the mother lying lifeless on a pile of bags wheezing, coughing, and moaning, she is really sick. A few rocks and a pile of ash is where they did their cooking and in any other home right about then was when a warm fire would be blazing and supper would be just about finished for everyone to eat, but that wasn’t the case here; it had been a few days since this family had eaten and they didn’t have any much hope for getting anything to eat. In the time of the evening when families come together to unravel the events of their day and smiles should be gleaming, you could only see these people sitting in a deafening silence with pervasive destitution suffocating them.

This drought has caused fathers to lose their jobs, has robbed farmers of their harvest, stolen the school fees of the children causing rent to go unpaid, work no where to be found and “struggling” the situation of many households. Like so many others, the father was let go from his job a few months ago, which meant that the steady income and form of support for this family was lost. After coming to the realization that he wouldn’t find any work here in Masii, the father ventured off to find a job and was to send support for the family. It has been a few months since he left and apparently he met another woman, a better living situation and a way to free himself from the black hole of despair overwhelming his family so he and this new woman got married. The daughter went to find out what happened to the father and when she found him he chased her away and told her to never come back because he was done with this family. This situation is bad, this family has no land and no home, so for the past few months that have been staying with an old neighbor of theirs. The mother of the family is believed to suffer from epilepsy and falls into seizures randomly and is very sick which makes the oldest daughter the main provider for the family. The oldest daughter left school around the second grade and has two children of her own to care for, but without any formal training or the completion of her education she can only do small side jobs around town which aren’t enough to meet the needs of her mother, sister and children. To make matters worse the landlords have given them three days to move out; but without money, without a job and with the mother being so sick it seems as though they are between a hard place and a rock.

When most Americans think of Kenya or Africa the things that come to mind are starving orphans, children warriors, AIDS and malaria. I think that our view of Africa is a little askew, but this view is the one that we see the most. The commercials, documentaries, and posters all paint a picture that everyone in this place is dressed in the same rags everyday, goes days without food, that everyone is an orphan, and that everyone is starving to death… this isn’t true. There are many people who are starving, many people are dressed in rags, many children aren’t able to go to school, many children don’t have shoes… but many people get to eat as much as we do, many people have good paying jobs and are dressed very nicely and have great suits, if you go to Nairobi I am sure you are going to see people driving cars nicer than yours, many children are able to go to school. There is a lot of suffering but that isn’t the situation for everyone here but that is what we are led to believe. Not everyone is in the situation that this mother and her children are in, but I look at this families situation and I understand why people pick the most dramatic and heart wrenching stories to share on the commercials and that is because they desperately want people to help. Even though not everyone here is starving, a lot of people aren’t able to get as much food as they should e and are suffering a great deal, and when I look at how much this family is suffering and how little it would cost us to help I see why people go to the extreme and try to paint a picture that everyone is starving… because they want to get help.

When I tell you this story I’m not over exaggerating or trying to paint a dramatic picture I am just telling it to you as I see it. This family has gone a few days without eating… I don’t know if we can understand exactly what that means because that isn’t very typical in the U.S. To completely go without food, imagine how tired your body gets, how much your stomach hurts, imagine how angry or depressed you might get… to not go without food means that this case is extremely bad. With this father running out on the family I can’t even imagine what type of wound that has left for the children and wife, I would imagine that they feel inadequate or unlovable, the wife may be feeling ugly or like a failure. To have to stay with someone else for a few months must be pretty difficult as well, to think that you can’t even provide your family or yourself with the most basic of necessities. To be so poor as to not even have a bed…. I’m sure their pains are more than just physical.

I look at this as a great opportunity to be used to answer someone’s prayers. Words are cheap and a lot of times they are unnecessary. If I am in a bad situation I don’t want to hear about how God loves me I want someone to show me that he loves me and that he cares about me… when someone is going through a bad situation it is one of the greatest opportunities to put your faith into action… which is where it should be in action not stagnate.

I bought just over a hundred pounds of corn and beans for this family, which should be enough food for a few months. The pastor is giving them a bed frame and a mattress to get them off of the ground. We are going to try to find a place for them to live in Masii. I am asking if any of you would be interested in helping out, we can get a place for about $6 a month or so and can get some utensils and cooking things pretty inexpensively as well and it would be great to get them covered for a few months of rent and well supplied. William and I have both been fasting for this family and are putting the money that we would have been spending on ourselves on them instead. We are going to make sure that this family will be provided for and that they are going to receive the help they need.

Homework
With that being said I have something for you guys to give a try. For one day fast, just one day. With the money that you would have spent for yourself go to the market or look in your cupboard and put together a bag of food or maybe some hygiene products. On your way to work when you are exiting the freeway, roll down your window and give the bag to the homeless guy standing there and ask his name, not too difficult to do right? For the day each time that you get hungry or your stomach hurts toss up a prayer for that person. You will probably never see that person again but that is okay. How incredible would it be if for one day everyone did that? If for one day we completely put someone else before ourselves… let me know if you are willing to give it a try, I really hope you do.

Thanks

Geoffrey

Oh I attached two pictures of the grandchildren.

There is a young man and a young woman that have been sponsored by Tumaini and have completed high school and are going to be coming to California for schooling in August. They have never been here before and will only know different people that have come here for mission trips or who are working with Tumaini. I am all too familiar with culture shock after this trip and know that it may be a little scary or intimidating for them to be so far from home and in a completely different culture. I wish I was home to welcome them, take them out to dinner and to the movies… but I’m not coming home until September. Let me know if any of you guys would be willing to go meet them or take them to the beach. They are incredibly nice and after being shown such extreme hospitality I really want to make sure that they feel as welcomed and cared for as I have

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From Geoffrey to you ; Miracles

Saturday, July 11th, 2009

Saturday July 11, 2009

MIRACLES!!

Before I was a Christian I had this problem with believing that there was a God. I knew a lot of people who believed in some sort of a God somewhere, but how did they know he existed? I didn’t hear a voice, see a light or walk on water, so I found it very difficult to believe in something I couldn’t see. I remember telling God to reveal himself to me, to prove his existence and I demanded to see a miracle, then and only then would I believe. If God is so great and so powerful, if he really did create the world and the universe then turning my cup of water into wine shouldn’t be a problem right? When I read the bible I see people demanding the same miraculous signs that I do. The pharaoh demanded a miracle from Moses to prove he was from God. Herod was giddy when he first met Jesus because he eagerly wanted to see a miracle. People were demanding signs to validate their faith and for entertainment, just like I did.

It has been about two weeks since Janet had her operation. If you haven’t been keeping up with the messages or you missed the ones about her, she is the girl who has been completely blind for the past eight months or so, they told her she would never see again and unbelievably her eyes began to improve dramatically, after a month they had improved so much (unexplainably) that she was able to have an operation which took place about two weeks ago. I am completely amazed and in awe of this whole situation; against science, reason and logic this girl who was never supposed to see again is seeing. The past two days she has been cooking all of the meals in her house, something she hasn’t been able to do since she became blind. How does that happen? I consider this a miracle, something that happens against all reason and logic. I have spent my entire Christian life on the edge of my seat waiting to see a miracle like this. I have always wanted to see someone crippled walk, or the blind see, or water turned into wine and now I have.

I always wondered how the Israelites could walk away from God so many times. How can they be guided by pillars of fire by night and pillars of smoke by day, have water come out of rocks, have clothes that grew with them and be surrounded by miracles and yet walk away from God and doubt that he exists? How can you see the Red Sea part in front of your very eyes and yet think God isn’t real? Have you ever wondered the same? I think I know why.

Does a fish know that it is wet? No, because for its entire life it has been living in water and it knows nothing else. I think that the Israelites were walking with God for such a long time that the awe and amazement soon faded and they stopped acknowledging things as divine miracles and labeled them as mundane and routine. I am completely amazed by Janet’s case, I was in the room when the doctors told her she would never see again and visiting her everyday has enabled me to watch the entirety of this miracle, but I think there are more miracles going on than I realize. I have been completely surrounded by them for such a long time that I have allowed myself to lose the admiration and awe.

I think that everyone has a different understanding of what a miracle is, for me it is something that is seemingly impossible or incredibly difficult that happens. I don’t think that it needs to be completely impossible to accomplish to be a miracle, but that is just me. I realize that miracles are happening all around and yet I am so used to them or they aren’t as spectacular as I imagined and I brush them off.

I think about what it must be like for an AIDS orphan to find out that they are going to be sponsored by Tumaini. Imagine that out of the MILLIONS of AIDS orphans that are oppressed, suffering and impoverished you are chosen and your dreams of going to school are met along with getting food, medical treatment and other goods. I remember a girl telling me how overwhelmed with joy she was when she got the letter from Tumaini saying she was sponsored, she glowing when she told me. For us this doesn’t seem like much of a miracle, when I started sponsoring a child from Tumaini I didn’t think much about it, but when I see it from the child’s point of view I realize how miraculous and how much of a Godsend it is and how many prayers are answered by getting that letter in the mail. I can’t tell you how many people have come to me and asked me to buy them food because they had absolutely nothing. Sometimes I am able to give and other times I have nothing with me, but regardless of if I give or not they survive. How is it that there are people living here with absolutely no money, no income and no hope of an income and yet they are able to eat? There is a guy here who has a HUGE servants heart, how is it possible for that to happen when he was orphaned by his parents and grew up on the streets? All bit of logic and reason in my body would say that he would join the other streets boys in stealing, drinking, doing drugs and seeing prostitutes, but he doesn’t… how can that be anything but a miracle? What about Carro getting a wheelchair, getting funds for her operation, having her families rent paid for six months, out of the billions of people on this planet how is it that she was provided for? How can that be deemed as anything but a miracle? What about back at home? Do miracles happen in the states? YES.

I remember when I was with a youth ministry in Inglewood and what type of people made up our youth ministry: gang bangers, drug dealers, kids who didn’t know their fathers, single parents, drunks and some of the worst people by societies standards. How is it that these people who should still be out there dealing drugs, sleeping around, getting drunk every weekend or stealing had their lives transformed? How can a former gangbanger bring all of his fellow gang members to church and help them all to walk away from the violence and addiction? That isn’t a miracle? What about when a homeless man who had been addicted for drugs longer than I have been alive showed me all of his drugs and threw them all away, that is a miracle!

Miracles happen everyday, not just in Africa, we are fish that haven’t gotten out of the water yet, we haven’t realized they are miracles yet, but once you realize what a miracle is you will join me in standing in awe of the unbelievable things taking place all around us, which shouldn’t be confused with coincidences.

Prayer Requests:
Stacy was supposed to get her wheelchair yesterday. It has been nine weeks…. I am going to go by today to see if it came. This wheelchair will completely change her life and her family. Join me in prayer for her.
We are doing a HUGE three day evangelism campaign, something that from my understandings has NEVER happened before here in Masii, but we are short on funds. We are doing a fundraiser tomorrow, join me in prayer that we will raise the needed funds. Our outreach is going to be in Kosovo, a place called Dark Estate that has devil worshipping churches and is very poor, and a street called Misery Street because of the extreme poverty, drug addiction and prostitution there. We are also doing a lot of HIV and AIDS prevention. We also want to distribute food. We have HUGE plans but we are still short about $700 of what we are looking for to make it happen. If everyone gives big at tomorrows fundraiser we should get it, pray that their hearts are touched and that they want to give.
My sickness is completely gone. Thanks for the prayers!!

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From Geoffrey to you; The first chapter

Monday, July 6th, 2009

I never really wrote stuff for other people to read before this trip… its new and is completely out of my comfort zone. I would love to write a book about this experience and what I have learned, I have done some writing for the book, but this is the first thing that has been edited (thank you dad). No idea if this is going to turn into an actual book, but it is a start. I hope you enjoy it.

CHAPTER 1

Have you ever lost something of great worth? Has there ever been a time in your life when something of such great value to you, monetary or sentimental, has abruptly been taken from you and drove you to ravage your home and possessions intently searching for it? Have you ever lost the thing that is the essence of your being? Have you ever lost the will to keep on keeping on?
The very core of my existence has faded away. I have lost my heart and am earnestly and tenaciously digging through the overwhelming and pointless stacks of paper and the unending piles of dirty laundry of my life in what seems like a futile attempt to regain what I have lost. I want my heart back. The Lord had given me a heart for what breaks his; He blessed me with this benevolent and compassionate consuming passion for Him and His children. As I laid eyes upon the oppressed and the suffering my heart was broken, torn and despoiled. I felt somewhat like King David, seeking after God, knowing the paths that God had set before me and all the time seeking further ways to serve Him and others. I served others not by force or out of fear of being struck down, but because I sincerely loved God and sincerely loved them. I had what 1 Peter refers to as “inexpressible and glorious joy” flowing through my veins and now, this tough and well-calloused exterior of my heart has caused me to trade in the great for the mediocre; I grew content and cold. I am on a mission to find that all-consuming and ever-present passion for God once again. I am stepping out of the spotlight and rummaging through life in a desperate attempt to learn what it means to have a servant’s heart, to unselfishly and relentlessly love others the way that God intended for us to, not the way that the condemning, judgmental and overzealous try to force us to believe.
What do you do when you find that you have lost your heart? When the drive to press on is lost. When the purpose in waking up each morning has slipped away through your fingertips. What do you do when the reason you continue to fight is slipping away and grows fainter and dimmer each day while, as you stand upon the foundation on which you have firmly planted yourself, you are overwhelmed by life and find that you have lost your footing? I was going through the motions of life perfectly, but missing the heart of why I do what I do; I had the methods down but was missing the principle.
At age 21, I decided to move to Kenya for six months to work with AIDS orphans, serving as a youth pastor, offering my body as God’s instrument to be used as he pleases. I am doing this in an attempt to find that thing of greater worth than gold, my heart, and to not only find it but to learn how to develop it into the servant’s heart that my soul desperately longs for.

STACY

When I moved to Kenya, I spent the first two months living in a compound with the pastor of a small church. There were about twenty children and adults living in the different apartments. It didn’t take long for me to become friends with all of the children and their parents, soon the children seemed to love running in and out of our house. Most of these children had either never seen a white person before or had seen very few and as the fear of my skin wore off within the first few days, they began to gravitate around me and became my entourage of five year olds. I couldn’t leave or enter my house without an friendly ambush of kids yelling “Geoffrey” or “Mzungu,” which means white person. I imagined that I had met all of the residents within the first few days, but I was mistaken; I had yet to meet Stacy, my immediate neighbor.
The beautiful child I speak of has the same playful and bubbly personality that any other four year old would have. The only difference between her and others is her physical limitations; Stacy is crippled. Complications during her delivery resulted in her being deprived of oxygen during the birth, which damaged her brain. But contracting malaria at six months is more of the cause of her challenged state in which I found her, lacking the ability to speak, walk or freely move her body. Many would argue that through modern technology and advances in the medical field Stacy should still be able to live a great life. Having physically limited friends, I too believed the same thing. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that being a crippled child in a third-world country is completely different from being disabled in America.
From my understanding, there is a negative connotation to being crippled in this place. With a disabled child comes the disassociation of friends that refuse to accept the situation. I have heard cases of mothers who have kept their child in the most secluded room in their home in an attempt to keep this disgrace a secret. With unemployment sky high and a catastrophic drought in these parts, purchasing expensive medical devices is very difficult for families like Stacy’s. Just like in America, some fathers leave because they are disgusted with the condition of their child. Schools for the handicapped and physically challenged, though they exist, aren’t as prevalent as regular schools. Medicines, surgeries, and medical devices are unaffordable, so giving birth to a physically challenged child has immense obstacles.
With the exorbitant prices of wheelchairs and with the majority of this country living on less than one dollar per day, Stacey’s family only has a small handcrafted blue chair, which they often keep inside the home, in which she spends the entirety of her day, which was why it had taken me so long to meet her. If she is able to come outside for the day, she spends it within a few feet of her home. She isn’t able to venture past the surrounding fence and gate that also acts as a barrier against what lies beyond her home and robs her eyes of gazing into the unknown. Stacy has been blessed with both a loving father and mother, but the difficulties and complications when transporting Stacy are immense, which is why this girl is somewhat imprisoned and confined within the walls of her home, a few feet within the door.
Stacy is not able to ask for things, nor can she pick up things on her own, and she isn’t able to vocalize her needs or desires for even the simplest of things. As we tried to communicate with her during our first meeting, I couldn’t help but notice that flies were relentlessly landing on her face. These flies were crawling up her nose and around the rim of her eyes. Without the ability to even swipe them away, she was both defenseless and helpless. What is life like for someone like this? I can’t even begin to imagine the struggles of everyday life that she and her family face. The frustrations of having dreams, hopes, ideas, wants and desires but never being able to vocalize them. Having an entire world to see and yet not being able to go more than ten feet from home.
Maybe Stacy is alive and has been blessed with air in her lungs, but how much life is the child truly experiencing or living in comparison to the potential life she could live? She doesn’t have friends, doesn’t have a social life, can’t run, yell and scream with the other young children. She just spends every moment of every day confined within the arm rests of this small blue chair. With the long hours her mother and father work, the heavy work load the house help carries and her brother being in school, Stacy spends most of her time alone. The fact of the matter is that when I look at this situation, when I see how she is missing something, I realize that I too am missing something.

THE WHEELS ARE TURNING, BUT AM I MOVING

When I look at Stacy I see myself. I am living life, I am serving God, I am giving my time, resources, talents and abilities but I am not truly living life and not truly serving God. There is this hole in my heart; this void if you will and I find that something is missing. I may have the right actions, but without the right heart I have nothing. Maybe Stacy has life, but the lack of finances and resources has deprived her of the possibility of the fulfilling life she could have. She and I are both in a place where we are missing something.
She may be content, as was I, but there comes a time when you desire more, when your heart and soul long for something beyond contentment. There comes a time in your life when going through the motions, putting on a front and turning your wheels will no longer appease your spiritual appetite. A time arises when you no longer want mediocre, you no longer want to settle for less. You want the greatness that God is offering, instead of the mundane that you have been using in some futile attempt to feed this spiritual hunger.
Through the benevolent giving of a few individuals, she is going to get a wheelchair that will give her the ability to go to school. No longer will she have mediocre or the sloppy seconds of life, the air in her lungs and the life in her body will no longer be restricted, held back or imprisoned. She is free. No longer will she be forced to sit and rot away each day, now that her mind and body are free to explore beyond the once-confining fence. For her, life will truly be lived.
I feel as though God has heard my prayers and has opened my eyes and transformed me through this journey so far. No longer am I satisfied with going through the motions of my faith or giving my time, resources or money but hoarding my heart. I had this craving for a renewal of faith and passion, a craving that God appeased 8,000 miles from home. The months spent here have removed the heart of stone and given me a heart of flesh, but in order for me to be transformed I needed to come to the realization that I was in desperate need of a heart transplant.

UNCALLOUSED

One day I went to a place of prayer and fasting. It was a commune of sorts. Pastors, reverends, priests, church elders and church members came to this place for days upon days at a time to draw near to God. Brick walls surrounded aged and tattered buildings. A few buildings were dedicated just for prayer. Others were for small groups of people to gather and fellowship. Grassy areas surrounded by trees, flowers and Kenya’s beautiful wildlife were numerous, and many could be found laying in the grass, doused in the shadow of the trees, praying and crying out to God. I found a small chapel to spend the next few hours.
Above me a cold front of air had collided with a warm front and created a blissful breeze, which cascaded downward and rushed into this small building. With my back against the wall, just beneath a broken window, this gift from God came ruffled through my hair. Mold scaled the walls of this deteriorating building. Broken glass and rusted metal fashioned the windows. A simple wooden pew is where I rooted myself for the next few hours and that simplicity is that I needed. With a deafening silence soothing my soul and a gentle breeze caressing me, I sought out God. I Prayed. Rested. Read my bible. Asked God “why,” and “how.” I reflected upon my day and all that I had seen in the two weeks since I had left home. I wadded into my memory pool and dove after both the life altering acts of benevolence and the gut wrenching hurts, pains, and anguishes I had witnessed.. The captivating smiles of small children with joy-filled-hearts. The starvation. The hospitality and generosity. The malnutrition. The perseverance. The faces of the oppressed.
As I reflected on my days of walking the streets of Masii, I couldn’t help but think about the values, morals and the culture of this place. Men well aged working extreme hours for less than a dollar per day. Some of these men spend their existence pushing and pulling carts, loaded with hundreds of liters of water, and refilling the water basins of the community. I remembered their torn clothing, their broken spirits, the negligible skin and bone that makes up their bodies, and the pain in their eyes as they take no notice of what their muscles are telling them and push their feeble bodies to their limit. I am still in awe and admiration of their work ethic, of their ability and willingness to wake up each and every morning only to return to this backbreaking labor. The hours are long, the harvest they reap is small, the pain is immense but their willingness to live out each day and give their best is robust, much more than mine has ever been.
I have seen such small children waking up well before the sun rises to walk the immense distance from their home on the outskirts of the city to school because they realize that having an education isn’t a right, but a privilege, and without it they are ill-fated to face a future of many struggles, poverty, suffering and possible starvation. I have seen children who carrying five-gallon containers of water to the homes of the people of Masii, giving this job everything they have just to make a few pennies to contribute to the basic needs of their families.
As I dived further into my memory bank, I reflected upon many things: the work and labor required to bathe, the hours needed to prepare a meal and wash dishes, the lack of basic sanitation in some places. I remember what their vegetables look like because of this drought, the lack of water left them shriveled and a fourth of the size of what we feast on in our country.
Images of elderly women carrying bags weighing more than they do as they walk great distances to their homes flashed through my mind along with the diseases that are immensely prevalent. My mind goes down the lists of the names of friends I have that are dying of AIDS. I recalled the mothers who prostitute their bodies, in an attempt to put food into their malnourished child’s body, because their husbands left them to fend for themselves. I realized how much I truly take for granted, how rich I am, and I now realize the selfish ambition that constantly plays a role in my life.
My heart has been calloused by the world that we live in. I have been submerged in a culture that promotes greed, selfish ambition, pride, glory, and the furthering of oneself instead of mutual edification. I feel as though I have grown all too familiar with our lifestyle and have not only submitted myself to it but also actually embraced it. I have a cavity where my heart used to be and I have grown accustomed to the ways in which our society act and I have, regrettably, conformed to our American culture and the way of thinking. My heart has grown numb to those things that break the heart of God. The images of children dressed in rags and starving have lost their sting. As I pass the homeless on the side of the road my heart has begun to neglect and I simply keep on driving. I have become so infatuated with myself and my kingdom that I have forgotten about God’s kingdom. I became skilled at going through the motions but horrible at having the heart. For years, I thought of how I “lived above reproach,” only to come to the realization within a shabby, mildew infested, broken building how greedy and self absorbent I truly am.
I’ve looked at the simple life these people embrace and have become conscious of how complicated I have made it and how much focus I have put on my kingdom and myself. What good is it if I spend my life attaining wealth and material goods, being promoted, being the center of attention and yet losing my soul! I once had a beating heart that loved and cared for others, now I feel like all I have is emptiness. Ezekiel 36:26 “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you: I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” My prayer and aspiration is that God will use each and every minute of this undertaking to remove from me this hard, cold stone of a heart and give me a heart of flesh. My prayer is that those things that break his heart will break mine. I pray that as my heart has become calloused and hard it will become flesh, vulnerable, sensitive, hurting and in pain for what pains God’s heart. I don’t want to live a life for myself anymore. I want the spotlight off of myself and place it on God. Let me seek out God’s kingdom, not mine. Let me ask myself what I can do for God, instead of what can I do for myself.
I don’t claim to be anything great, because I’m not. I haven’t written this book to attain fame and wealth. My eyes have been opened to my complacent way of living and I realize that I have been missing something. I realize that my heart had grown numb, cold, calloused and had turned to stone. I used to be on the right track and had the heart seeking and truly following God, but at some point I veered off the road of life and began going through the motions, turning my wheels and yet going nowhere.
This book is filled with the seemingly incessant ramblings of one poor wandering beggar. I have ventured on a journey to change my life and to retrieve what I had lost, my heart. I realize I am not alone in having lost my way and heart. I pray and hope that the words that God writes through these hands will encourage you and act as a catalyst to rekindle that passionate and yet all-consuming flame in your life as God has done for me.

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From Geoffrey to you; Suicidal Thoughts

Saturday, July 4th, 2009

Saturday July 4, 2009

Suicidal Thoughts

When life throws you in a pit, a deep and lonesome hole of despair, you try with everything you have to climb your way out and to gather your footing once again, but once you fall, fall, and fall continually over and over again, once you have poured every ounce of strength in your body into getting yourself out and yet you find that you are no where near bettering your situation you stop and you quit. When hope is lost so is everything else. No longer am I able to muster up the strength or willingness to wake up for another day of torment. No longer am I able to put a smile on my face and pretend as if everything is okay as I bump into familiar faces. After struggling longer than you can remember, after having a build up of unbearable pain and anguish, after you have lost all self worth the idea of suicide is so tantalizingly brilliant it seems like an answer to prayer. No longer will the pain of everyday life hold you captive. No longer will you turn your head in disgust as you see yourself in the mirror. No longer will you have to pretend like everything is peachy. The worries, fears, anger, remorse, despair, destitution, and pain that has haunted your every being for more days than you wish to recall will all peacefully subside.

Yesterday a small boy and a little girl followed me and hung out with me for about an hour and a half. They didn’t say much and got really shy whenever I asked them questions. They didn’t need to say anything they were two precious children of God. There is a woman that I have been hearing about for the past two days and I have been eager to meet her. Word around the street was that there was a young struggling single mother who is threatening suicide because her family is starving and suffering. I just now returned from her home and the situation was tough and those two children who followed me around yesterday were hers. This widow has three beautiful children, I would guess all they are all under five years old. Her home has no bed, no mattress, no blankets, no chairs or furniture, the only thing that fills this small single room are a few borrowed items like two plates and a pot for cooking. She has no food. She has no family around this area to help. Her children were dressed in the same clothes they had on yesterday. This woman had absolutely nothing and I can see why she lost all hope and wanted to give up.

When I think about the organized religion that I practice I realize that it is all commentary. The debate of predestination against free will, the question of the once saved always saved, how to pray, how often to take communion, if you can baptize children, who to pray to, if we have three worship songs at the opening of our service or four, what type of flowers to use in this weeks floral arrangement, the building fund, what type of wafers to use for communion, and the color of this weeks bulletin… none of that really matters. When it comes down to my faith only two things matter, to love God and to love His children. Does it really matter how people pray? If they stand, sit, or kneel. Does I really need to make such a big deal over the color of the bulletins? Do I need to sit and debate my views and try to force others to see that my way is more “holy” than theirs? No.
I read my bible often, it is all highlighted, worn and covered in notes but it’s all commentary, I hope this offends no one. The bible was written a long time ago. It was written in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek, not English. I think of the fact that at some point a group of very intellectual and spiritual people had to sit down and translate these writings into English. In order to do this though, they had to read it in its original language and use their intellect, experience, understanding and interpretation to translate it. The words I read in my bible aren’t the exact words that it was originally written in, it’s close to it but it is difficult to get a word for word translation. What do you do when you come across a word in Greek that we don’t have in English? What about a word like “love,” we only have the one word but in Greek there are various words with different meanings for our one word. So a bunch of smart guys grouped around and came up with the best translation they could, meaning that what we read isn’t identical to what was written hundreds of years ago. In order to get the actual “bible” we need to study these three languages and read it in its original text, but what about the cultural aspect? Different things are culturally accepted and culturally denounced back then, in order to come close to understanding the bible perfectly we would need to not just study the culture but live in that time. What about the fact that by the preteen age a Jewish boy would have the entire Old Testament memorized, things that are apparent to them aren’t to us. If they read the New Testament they would look at stories, parables and letters in a completely different way than we do. Millions of men and women have dedicated years of their lives to studying the word of God and yet we come up with so many different methods, understandings, interpretations and beliefs from the one book. Understanding the bible is like a pool that is so deep you can never reach the bottom and yet so shallow anyone can wade in its waters and not drown. Just so you guys know I do believe that what I read is the direct word of God, I think it is holy and I am thankful for having it, but I realize that everyone has their own interpretation and understanding of it.

I love my bible, you can call you a bible thumper. I enjoy reading the stories, parables and accounts that are found within its bindings so much, but I have come to the realization that it is all commentary. You can take any scripture and dozens of people can get completely different interpretations from it. We view the bible and based off our lives, experiences and knowledge we develop our interpretation of it, but everyone has slightly different understandings, so many different aspects of it can be debated. I think that we get so caught up in the methods that we completely forget about the principal of the Christian faith.

I don’t think that whether or not a church speaks in tongues, whether you are allowed to baptize a child or just adults, if woman are allowed to preach, if you were predestined, if you pray standing or sitting, if you go through confirmation or just attend a youth group matters as much as simply loving God and loving His children. I am reading a book called “Tortured for Christ” and it gives the accounts of a pastor who was imprisoned and tortured for 14 years of his life because of his faith. After a few years this man lost his ability to write, forgot the scriptures, and could hardly even pray. The only prayer he was able to repeat was “Jesus, I love you” and he and his fellow cell mates continued to love those who tortured them even as they were murdered. They didn’t use scripture and didn’t argue about the methods of their faith and how to pray, they couldn’t even remember how to really pray, but they continued to love God and love his children, that is what our faith and the bible is all about. I can read the bible and take things in a completely different way than you, the bible can be used as a weapon for condemning and judging, it can be used as a tool to encourage and bring hope, it can be used as simply a piece of literature or as an artifact, I can read the bible and come up with many different methods and different beliefs (if you don’t believe me try to count how many different denominations we have) but in my opinion all of that is the small stuff. The problem is that we focus so much on these small issues, these small differences (I can’t say I think God is going to care very much about what kind of wafers we use for communion or if we pray standing, sitting or kneeling) that we miss the bigger picture; love. It all comes down simply to that, love God and love his children. Not how you do it or who does it better, but to simply love. No matter what method you decide is right for you, no matter what denomination you agree with, no matter if you speak in tongues or not… not matter how you read the bible it is apparent that it all comes down to loving God and loving his children.

I don’t think that this means to say “I love you.” If my parents say they love me but beat me, starve me, curse me, deprive me of joy and abuse me I am going to find it a little difficult to believe they love me. However, if they feed me, clothe me, comfort me when I worry, and accept me for who I am whether they say it or not I will know that they love me. Love is action not words.

James 1:27 “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress…” I think after tonight I have a better understanding why this is in the bible. This widow I met was broken, tired and worn out. Her three children were all yelling and running around the entire time we were there, she didn’t seem to have any energy to chase after them or tell them to stop, I imagine raising children on your own must be difficult. Trying to work a job while watching your children must be burdensome as well. What about the pain of losing her husband? This woman has to try to be the strong one in the family and pull everything together, but what if she has a deep wound that hasn’t healed from his death? How difficult must that be? What about providing for your children? I can tell you that right now there odds of getting a job here are slim to none, how would it feel to tell your children we don’t have any food today? I can understand how this woman could feel hopeless and want to commit suicide, I see the despair in her life. I can see why God says that pure religion is caring for the orphans and widows, because they are lacking one of the most essential things in life: love.

Pure religion isn’t arguing over speaking in tongues, how you pray, when to be baptized, other religions, thumping people over the head with the bible, talking poorly about other denominations… pure religion is simply bringing love to those without any. Not with words, but with actions. Tonight the only thing I said was a prayer at the end of our meeting with this woman, we brought her food and are going to help her go back to her hometown… I wouldn’t dare saying anything because chances are that my words would have gotten in the way. I didn’t need to say anything, showing up and showing her love with action says enough.

Prayer Requests:
This woman, her children and their trip back to their home town. Pray for a job opportunity.
Stacy’s wheelchair… it was supposed to be here over six weeks ago… William and I are headed into the town on Monday to see what the hold up is.
Mama Carro had another baby, it is a girl. Just pray for her provision and work
We have a three day evangelism event the end of July and beginning of August
I am starting to get sick… I hope it isn’t the swine flu : )

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From Geoffrey to you; Clinging

Wednesday, July 1st, 2009

Wednesday July 1, 2009

Clinging

In times of despair, pain and destitution we tend to cling onto something. When the storms hit some of us grab on to our faith and don’t let go, some turn to relationships and seek the comfort of others, some turn to solitary environments and some of us turn to our addictions. Previously I mentioned how catastrophic this drought is and how everyone has been effected in one-way or another by its ramifications. In a community in which the majority looks to their farms for their food and income, a drought is disastrous. With no fields to look to, no herds to tend to and very little money to be made countless men can be found from sun up till far past the sun sets in Kosovo drinking away the little money they have been able to acquire. This local brew is deadly.

Instead of using the little money to better their families or in a more productive way they throw it away on getting drunk as often as their finances will allow them. Why? Why do they do it? Well we asked them. Stress seems to be a big factor, and understandably so. It seems like anyone in that situation would be stressed, imagine being a father and not being able to provide the most basic and essential need for your wife and children, stress is understandable. Idleness seems to be another big reason for spending their days in Kosovo. There is only so much that someone can do with a farm without rain or crops, after a while you run out of chores to do on a farm, they say that they have nothing better to do. I don’t know if I would agree with that, but I do understand that this drought has given them a lot of free time. Some have desperately attempted to attain acceptance and find that they can’t get it anywhere but in Kosovo where you are welcomed with arms wide open regardless of how much money you have as long as you have a cup of the local brew in your hand.

Today we made our regular visit to Kosovo. We were met with a two familiar faces and it wasn’t long before a nice sized group joined us. We made our rounds of visiting, praying, preaching and simply talking with the Kosovo fellows. William and I had smiles painted on our faces and the fellas’ had a cup clenched in their hands. A few times they offered some to William and I ha ha. We ended up getting probably over twenty Kosovo regulars interested in starting a small Kosovo church. We have been going there every week and are now well known and liked, by most people not everyone yet. The men there trust us and are very thankful of our going out of the way to see them. We are starting our new Kosovo church next Wednesday morning. I wish you could have heard the enthusiasm and zeal of these men as they tossed around the different ideas they had about starting this ministry. They have been mocked, laughed at, judged, condemned and ridiculed and now they have an opportunity to move past all of that. I think that the reason they are so adamant and excited about starting this ministry is because they wont be judged, instead they will be helped (we are going to be working on a rehabilitation program for some of the addicts that want help).

I am excited because these guys are getting an opportunity to cling onto something else, something of value and worth instead of this life draining addiction.

Thanks,

Geoffrey

Prayer Requests:
Janet’s continual recovery (she seems to be doing quite well so far)
Mama Carro went to the hospital today for the delivery of her baby. Pray that the procedure goes well.
Stacy’s wheelchair… it has been over five weeks since it was supposed to get here. We were told that it will be here on Friday, let’s hope it will actually get here

Randoms:
I heard about a guy who was murdered a few months ago. He was a witchdoctor and apparently someone blamed him for the drought and murdered him.
I heard that it is illegal to spit in Nairobi.

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From Geoffrey to you; When it rains it pours and sometimes you get rainboots and an umbrella

Sunday, June 28th, 2009

Sunday June 28, 2009

When it storms and the grounds are flooded sometimes you get an umbrella and rain boots

This drought has affected so many people. The great expectations of abundant rainfall for the past two rain seasons have only been met with great disappointment. I have been told that this is one of the worst droughts that the people of this area have been ill-fated enough to endure. In an area like this where most people earn their living and attain their food from farming their land, when no rain comes for two consecutive seasons you can expect that everyone has been affected in one way or another. Fruits and vegetables that Masii used to be able to grow and provide themselves, are now brought in from other parts of the country, the supply is diminishing and yet the need continues to grow, the prices go up.

The majority of people here earn their living from selling their crops, since they haven’t had a harvest this past year they haven’t made any money, this hits everyone where it hurts. Businesses don’t have customers because affording luxury items is out of the questions. School fees are exorbitant and without a good harvest are seemingly impossible to attain. Food and water, the basic necessities of life, are things that people are struggling to afford. What is a father to do when no work can be found, he hasn’t made money off of his farm in over a year, and he has children to feed? The needs are overwhelming and have only increased with time. I can’t walk through the market without someone pleading with me to pay for their child’s schools fees or to give them food. What are you to do when you have dozens of people that have brought their needs, very essential needs like food, to you and are importuning? Who do you help? I feel so guilty sometimes when I am buying food or spending money, I am able to eat so much and live in such comfort and yet these people to my left and right, my literal neighbors, are suffering so much.

I can remember growing up poor. I remember my mom buying the horrible tasting powdered milk and mixing it in our over-sized, plastic, orange bowl. I remember eating a lot of Top Romin along with Mac and Cheese. My mom called us “smart shoppers” because we lived by coupons and the generic brands. I remember when my dad was in between jobs. I remember when my mom had to manage apartments in order for us to get the rent to a low enough rate in which we could afford. I remember making many trips to thrift stores. I remember going around the neighborhood washing cars and holding garage sales trying to make a few bucks and then I remember what it was like being able to afford things like my first C.D. and a new pair of shoes (an expensive one not one from Payless, though now I dig Payless). Everything is still fresh in my mind.

Whenever I spend money I can’t stop thinking about some of the misfortunes, pleas and situations that have been brought to my attention and remember the difficulties we faced growing up. I can’t stop thinking about the woman who is about to have a child, but her husband is in jail and she has no source of income. I can’t stop thinking about the young man who graduated from high school a few years ago and needs his diploma to get a job but can’t pay off his school fees. I can’t stop thinking about the mother who has a very sick son in the hospital but isn’t able to pay her bill. I can’t stop thinking about that woman who is kept in an oppressed state by her mother and isn’t allowed to get a job but at the same time isn’t provided for. I can’t stop thinking about all of the single mothers who struggle to make ends meet. I can’t stop thinking about the malnourished children who live in an area dominated by drug dealers and prostitutes. I can’t seem to get out of my mind the idea of going to school and walking these rough roads shoeless. I can’t stop thinking about what it must be like to go to bed without dinner. I can’t stop thinking about what it must feel like to be a man and the provider of the family and yet being unable to actually provide. I can’t stop thinking about how demeaning and humiliating a young woman must feel to have to resort to prostitution. I tell you that some of the pains, struggles and situations that the people here are forced to endure are horrendous and it pains me so much. The needs are copious but the resources are scarce.

If there were ever a time in which someone could justifiably hoard, take and focus merely on their own needs it is now, and yet that isn’t the case. The poverty is extreme but the benevolence seems to outshine it. People are in a situation where they aren’t capable to give and yet they do. Last night I went to a meeting for the missions committee for our church. This is a small group of people who have great hearts and want to do whatever they can to meet the needs of the oppressed and those who are suffering; we need more people like them in the world. These individuals aren’t rich by any means but are willing to give more of their time, resources and money than most. They were able to come up with enough money to pay for Janet’s operation, imagine that they were able to do that in a time when no money can be found; amazing. They were able to help raise enough money to pay for Carro’s surgery and now this young crippled child is going to have the ability to walk. They have distributed food to those with nothing. They have given beds to people who’s entire family slept on the ground on a pad. They have gathered clothing, sheets and other goods that they are going to circulate. Right now they have nothing in the bank, but that doesn’t stop them. They have so many plans and ideas for helping others that no amount of financial burden can hinder. With a very small amount of money they have been able to act as a catalyst in encouraging others to help and have been able to meet the needs of so many individuals. I know they are going to accomplish great things and are meet the needs of many individuals, I can’t wait to see what they accomplish and feel blessed to be a part of it. Though the needs are immense and those in need seem to be countless but I know that the impact that this small group of people will be able to make is going to be even greater.

This situation seems to big to handle and like any attempt at helping is futile, but in this dark situation sometimes a group like this appears. They are a beacon of light, an answer to prayer and a Godsend. Be encouraged.

Geoffrey

Prayer Requests:
The recover of Janet’s eyes
This Missions Committee
Carro’s recovery
Stacy’s wheelchair… It was supposed to be here five weeks ago
Tumaini Medical Center

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From Geoffrey to you; week one

Saturday, June 27th, 2009

Saturday June 27, 2009

Week One

I used some of the money you all gave me to help a girl start a dry cleaning business here in Masii. To give your mind a refresher, Sarah was really abused in her work place before. She has an education and a good head on her shoulders but she was stuck in this oppressed state. She was incredibly overworked and severely underpaid, to make matters worse her boss began to demand that she stop taking her day off and work without an increase in pay. The amount of money she was being paid was peanuts, I don’t think she was able to eat three substantial meals a day and I noticed she was losing a lot of weight. She started praying about opening her own business and about being freed from this situation. She set a date to quit her job and to start her own business, take in consideration that she didn’t have enough money at this time to even start her business but she did it in faith.

It has been a little over a week since her business opened and her profits from one week are more than she was being paid for an entire month. Before she even opened her shop she had a pile of clothes from people who had heard about the business. She has already started giving back by giving side jobs to other people that are struggling to make ends meet. She has more money, better food, better hours and can never been seen without a smile.

Purchasing this washing machine has completely changed her life. It’s hard to think that something like a washing machine can really transform a life, but it can.

Geoffrey

Prayer Requests:
Janet got home today from her operation. They said it went well. She is going to be going for a check up in a little over a week. They say that she will have fully recovered and will be able to see in two weeks time. Pray for her recovery
Stacy’s wheel chair was supposed to be here five weeks ago…. We have their word that it will arrive on Monday, but then again we had their word that it would get here yesterday and then again two weeks ago. Please keep praying for this
RAIN. Another cow dropped down dead today in the market because of having no food or water.
Zacks Chemotherapy
My Aunts recovery

Randoms:
I was visiting Janet and her daughter today. I had her daughter sitting on my lap and she peed. She is about 2 1/2 … that was fun ha ha
A little boy asked me to help him with his science homework today. I now know how my parents must have felt when I would ask them questions about a subject they studied AGES ago… I had no idea what the heck it was talking about, I was of little help. The funny thing is that the only thing I knew was the stuff about sexual reproduction. He is in sixth grade and I guess it is that time to learn about the anatomy. I couldn’t help but laugh as I answered his questions and then he was laughing as he read them to me. Man oh man am I immature.
We had our all night prayer and worship last night… a drunk guy from Kosovo came… and then started acting up ha ha… come as you are right?
I hate getting mosquito bites on the middle of your back where you can’t reach it

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From Geoffrey to you; Why

Thursday, June 25th, 2009

Wednesday June 24, 2009

Why

There is this little kid that is what you call a matata (trouble maker). He runs around and hits other kids. When you try to tell him to apologize he screams and wails as if he is the victim, even if you see him hitting and mistreating the other kids. He doesn’t seem to respect authority, if you tell him to sit he stands and if you tell him to stand up he sits. I see this little boy all of the time, he goes to our church and lives near me. He always joins in with the other children in screaming out “mzungu” and chasing after me to get my attention. This little boy has gotten under my skin a few times because of how he treats the other little kids and I think I know why.

It reminds me of the phrase, “hurting people hurt other people.” I know that I can be a beast if I am in a bad mood. When I was younger and going through my storm in life I hated school, didn’t have many friends and this was mainly because I treated them all so horribly. The reason I treated them all so horribly was because I was hurt myself and was angry at the world because of it. I’m not a shallow puddle, I am deep and the person you see today is the reflection of every moment, situation and experience of my entire life; our past forms us into who we are.

The mother of this child had apparently been seeking me out and managed to tract me down today. She told me her situation and the environment in which this boy has been raised in and it is no wonder that he acts the way he does. He has experienced a lot of pain and bad things, he is hurt.

Today I was reminded of a lesson that I learned a long time ago and that is that my heart needs to understand someone’s past before I look at their present. I need to approach the unapproachable with an open mind and understand that their whole life made them the way they are just like my whole life, both good and bad parts of it, has formed me into who I am today. We shouldn’t simply brush someone off because of their rough exterior, we need to be willing to dig in deep and ask “why.” Why are they this way? Why do they behave that way? Why are they so angry or sad?

I think I also need to be reminded that people can change and lives can be transformed. I know I wasn’t much to look at six years ago but I am proud of who I am now and that is because I had people stop and ask why I acted the way I did and were willing to dig deep in me. We never really know the potential of the person that we brush off and walk past. Imagine where we would be in life if everyone kept on walking and no one was willing to dig in deep and ask why.

My hope is that I would be willing to stop and ask why, instead of walking past and brushing someone off.

Please pray for Janet, she is having her operation today.

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