Proverbs 21:13

Saturday night was eventful to say the least and probably one of the most amazing experiences. After wandering around the Maasai Market all day with Caroline and Shauna, Chris and Lindy invited us over for dinner. Lindy's best friend Joy is here from North Carolina and staying with them until they go back in October so we wanted to meet her. She is adorable and I completely understand why Lindy is obsessed with her! She is humble, but funny and sweet and has this amazing heart for others. I feel like Lindy and I are long lost sisters because of the way we have clicked so well and we have everything in common, so I'm not surprised at how quickly I fell in love with Joy as well. Anyway, I have a bite on my leg and I showed it to Lindy because she is a nurse. At first, because of how red and swollen it was, it didn't look like a bite and Lindy thought it might be a DVT or blood clot. Immediately she called the doctor to have it checked out just in case. Since it was Saturday night the hospital wasn't open, but they know a Kenyan-American doctor who had someone escort us in and then take a look at my leg. Unfortunately, they couldn't tell me what was wrong with it but they gave me medicine and told me to check back in if it gets worse. It is very clear to me now that it is a bite and it hasn't gotten better but it hasn't gotten worse so I'm sure I will be fine!

Now for the best part of the story. After the doctor finished with me we asked him if we could walk around the women's ward and pray over them, to which he amiably agreed. The first room we went into had visitors. I'm almost positive they were Catholic, it was a man and a woman who were visiting another elderly woman. They were overjoyed at our offer to pray for her and accepted with smiles. After Lindy finished the prayer we walked over to the other two women who were laying in beds on the opposite side of the wall. We explained that we had just prayed for them and introduced ourselves. Both of them, though lethargic, showed their gratitude. After the first room we decided it best to divide and conquer so we split up and individually laid hands on the women and prayed for them. All in all we probably prayed for over 20 women. The last room we entered was truly something out of a movie, later to find out they were the HIV/AIDS victims. The first woman I saw was Elizabeth. She was as thin as the frigid bars that held her makeshift bed together. Her bones seemed to be fighting their way out of her skin, as if they were trying to escape the clutches of disease that was claiming her life. Her rugged hospital gown dangled loosely, awkward and exposing scars across her chest. I grabbed hold of her and begged God to heal her. I prayed for Him to give her His strength, physically and spiritually, to fight for her life. That He would bring her joy and love, in knowing that He was there with her. I prayed the thought of heaven would be comforting and uplifting to her that one day she would be in paradise with the Father. Looking back at my prayer, I can only say another that she has accepted Christ and that promise of heaven is hers to claim triumphantly. The health of the last woman I prayed for was comparable to Elizabeth's. She grabbed my hand and held it tight and I placed my other one around her back. Once again, I prayed for God to heal her and to reveal His love for her as I tried my best to be a symbol of Christ's love through my embrace.

As we left I told the women that we would be continually praying for them. I looked them in the eyes and told them "God bless you", but somehow those words took on a whole new meaning in that context. When you are saying "God bless you" to a woman who is expecting the Lord to call her home, knowing He could do so any second, or a child who goes home to a sewage infested shack at night, fearing starvation, disease, rape, or worse could seek them out at any moment, it really takes on new meaning. I don't think I have ever said anything with such a desire to see it lived out. This was a different feeling than being in the slums of Maithare or Kibera. In Kibera I almost get discouraged because of the overwhelming poverty that has debilitated over a million lives. Praying for these women was actually uplifting. I didn't feel the usual helplessness that has seemed to dictate a lot of my time here. I felt like I was actually truly making a difference in these lives, whether that is a valid feeling or not I don't know but I'd venture to say it is.

This might sound extremely strange, but I'm willing to risk that for the sake of an honest description of what this experience was like. At some moments, when I was holding these women, I truly felt the transfer of the Holy Spirit. I felt as though the Lord broke through the barrier of despair and brought peace. The appreciation shown on their faces and as Lindy pointed out, probably for good reason. I wonder how often people, mzungus no less, come and pray for these women. Their gratitude was probably also mixed with astonishment that someone cared enough to come and share Christ's love. Obviously, this was unlike anything I have ever done and I can only pray that the feelings I felt, faces I prayed for and motivation to share Christ in this way would not fade. I wish I had pictures to help relay the image of this event, but I guess my inadequate words will have to suffice. I know they could never do justice, as usual, to the sights, smells, or emotions that have changed my heart here but they offer a miniscule window into my experience.