Eventually I'm gonna need to get my blog back on to process all that is Kenya. But for now, I'll ease back in by including a blurb I wrote recently for the Kenya Relief newsletter:
Today I heard the numbing statistic that there are a million orphans in Kenya, with 80,000 located in the areas around Migori. Normally, numbers as vast as these fail to do more than overwhelm me, and they rarely register with me on a personal level. Today was different. Today, the message that thousands and thousands of children around Migori are orphans reached my ears as I stood in the front yard of such a child (see picture). I wish I could describe to you what that was like in a way that made it real to you; as real as seeing this sweet boy made this atrocious statistic real to me. I can no longer hide behind the indifference of large anonymous numbers: for me now, that devastating statistic has a face. A face that's 4 years old, and innocent, and only wants to be held.
Standing across the yard from this child as he leaned in his dirt laden shirt against his pitiful house - a house so fragile his neighbors were fearful of its collapse with each heavy rainfall - I couldn't help but ask: "Jesus, where are you?"
As the decision was finalized that this boy would not be left behind, that he would not be left an orphan, but that he would be leaving with us, adopted into the loving arms of the Kenya Relief family, I heard an answer. Where is Jesus? He's calling me to care for the least of these. Inviting me to be a physical representation of his love for his precious children, especially those in need. Asking and allowing us to be his body: his hands, his feet.
So, in the midst of allowing something so overwhelming to give way to apathy, Jesus offers us the chance to not surrender in despair, but instead to work alongside him in the coming of his Kingdom. May we begin this journey with just one person today.
No comments:
Post a Comment