The slums (Prepare youself...it's long, as usual)

1 Corinthians 1:18 “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God”

I said before that I was going to write about the slums.  I have kind of been putting it off because I don't know how to explain it. I have tried to email people to describe what I have seen but I know that my mere words will not do justice to what I have seen.  I feel God telling me to at least try to share with you what the slums were like so here goes.

 

A week ago I set off to Ngong in order to try and track down some of the living relatives of the children at the orphanage in hopes of reuniting them with their families or at least updating information about how the kids got to Huruma in the first place.  I had been to the slums on Sunday so I knew the circumstances were bad but bad does not come close to what I saw. 

 

 I'm going to flash back really quick; Sunday the Cornerstone team and all of the kids from Huruma went down to the slums to sing, perform a dance and feed the children at the slums.  It was so humbling to see the kids of Huruma, who barely have anything themselves, serving those who have even less than they do.  God truly convicted me about serving back in the states.  He showed me these children who have servants hearts and reminded me that He wants my heart to mirror theirs.  I didn't take time out of my days when I was home to spend serving the least of these in my own backyard and I will not make the same mistake when I get back in October.  It was so fulfilling handing out bread and milk to these little faces that might not see another "meal", if you can call 3 pieces of bread a meal, for God knows how long.  I praise God for that opportunity and all He accomplished through our team that day.

 

Now, back to my story about Thursday.  Being in the streets of the slums was one thing, but walking through their neighborhoods and sitting in their houses was a completely different experience.  I went with Grace who is the social worker at Huruma.  She took me to another lady who was our tour guide of sorts.  She led us through narrow dirt paths enclosed by jagged, splintered, shanty pieces of wood that compile make shift shelters for these people.  I can't tell you how many streams of human waste, corn cobs, egg shells, oil and anything else disgusting that you can think of that I stepped over as I weaved in and out attempting to keep up with Grace.  When we got to our first home I ducked down about 2 feet to fit through the door.  The walls were decrepit wood covered with paper off of canned vegetables.  The floor was a mixture of dirt and insects and there were dirty clothes/dishes stacked in piles that consumed the one room structure. Inside there were two, half naked, toddlers covered in food, one of which was crying and the other who had the biggest smile I have ever seen.  A young girl who looked no older than 15 was their mother and she was the one we had come to see.  This was the sister of one of the children at Huruma and we hoped that she could tell us the whereabouts of the biological mother or father.  Unfortunately, she did not know where the mother was because she had left years ago never to return.  She told us details about the girl we were asking about and her life in the slums.  She said their father would send her out on the streets of the slums to prostitute her in order to make money for the family to eat.  She was 8 years old at the time (and only 10 years old now).  It took everything in me not to break down right then and there but I knew I had to be strong and God blessed me with His strength.  That was our first home.  The next 2 stops we made were not any better and the stories remain unmentionable.  I left the slums feeling helpless.  There was so much corruption, so much poverty, so much pain and suffering that I just felt disgusted.  Disgusted at the situations I had just witnessed, disgusted at how selfish I am because I thought that suffering was sitting in the home for more than 10 minutes.  The smell alone of the house made me cringe and it took a lot for me to hold down the vomit.  It killed me to think that I could barely handle hearing these stories but this was life for so many.  10 minutes is nothing in comparison to actually living in this place.  These people have nowhere to turn.  They can't just walk away from this wretched life they live, they are trapped there day in and day out.  I don’t want to think about nighttime in the slums because just being there during the day gave me the creeps.  I am a grown adult feeling this way…I can’t even begin to fathom what it felt like for an 8 year old girl to be forced by her own father to roam those streets for sex.  I am so overwhelmed with Africa, but every time I sit down and get tears in my eyes thinking about it I feel peace.  It’s a peace that can only come from God.  I know He is telling me that He loves everyone single person that is stuck in the slums and that He has His hand on all of them.  It is not my place to worry about what is happening in the slums because worrying is a sign that I don’t trust God and that could not be farther from the truth.  I trust that God is the only thing that can come in and change Africa.  We can’t throw money at the problem because money will not change hearts.  These people have been corrupted by their impoverished lifestyles.  Half the time if they get their hands on money it goes to alcohol or drugs to numb the pain of reality.  No, money is not the only answer to Africa’s plight.  Mama Zipporah once said of her volunteers, “How dare you come and feed my children and not share the gospel with them.  What good is a full stomach going to do them when they are spending eternity in hell?”  Jesus Christ is the only thing that is going to change our world.  A full stomach will soon become empty again.  Clothes will become outgrown and warn.  Buildings will rust with time, but the love of Christ is never changing, never fading, never failing and eternal.  I know that my God is bigger than anything going on here in Africa and no matter how overwhelmed I become with the circumstances that I am faced with, it is impossible not to come back to the fact that God is all-powerful.  If you get Christ into the hearts of these people and then work with them to build loving communities, then money and resources are absolutely essential but without Christ the resources will be useless for long term change.

 

I hope that God breaks your heart, as He does mine, when you hear about what is going on here.  Africa can’t be saved by Christ if there aren’t people willing to leave the comfort of their homes for the sake of spreading God’s word.  I pray that God uses me to show these people love like He has shown me, to encourage and inspire these people.  To let them know that they can be the generation to make a difference.  A good friend of mine told me today about his plans to start raising money at his school in order to build wells for clean water in Africa and with the extra proceeds he was going to have New Testaments printed in different languages for people across the world.  He had counted out how many people went to his school and how much his endeavors would cost, all he needs is the helping hands of friends and teachers.  Then, he ended by telling me to let the children here know that they can make a difference and that people on the other side of the world care about them.  He wanted the people in Africa to know that people in the US were working to make a change so that this country can become everything that Jesus intended it to be.  I felt so inspired by my friend’s motivation.  He isn’t letting the fact that he is on the other side of the world stop his efforts to change Africa.  He isn’t allowing himself to be consumed by the things of his culture like who is wearing what, who bought what new material thing, who is dating who, what celebrity is pregnant or divorced or on drugs.  He isn’t letting himself be comfortable in a culture that is so devoured by themselves that they turn their eyes to the injustices across the world.  He understands Jesus call to action and the fact that this life is NOT about things that are fleeting, which the world covets and clings to.  Jesus tells his disciples to leave everything and follow him.  So we praise His name with our lips but deny dropping our stuff to take up His cross and then we claim we are worthy to call ourselves “Christians”.  This is not a blanket statement because so many of friends and high school kids understand this so well and are probably getting fired up reading this (I hope).  I just think it begs repeating because I sure as heck don’t want to be someone that grows numb to the calling of Christ and the implications of that calling on my life and I don’t think any one else can afford to belittle them either.