Jesse Gloyd

My wife had been to Kenya two out of the three trips Ecclesia has taken. She missed the last because of the birth of our son Jack, but was determined to make it this year. Though I had seen her excitement and her love for the Kenyan people, I very much had my fears and doubts about taking on such a task.

I have a hard time thinking back; it feels like years, even though it was only a little over a month. We made a lot of friends and solidified relationships that had started several years earlier. It was quite amazing to see the interactions between the leaders and the people of the slum. It was truly inspiring to see the progress being made and the work being done.

There really isn't much that I feel I can add that others haven't already expressed. It is amazing to see the things that God is doing in Kibera; this is a given. It is also quite frightening to look evil in the eye. Evil doesn't blink. Corruption is rampant. It was hard to reconcile the stories we heard with the faces we came to know and love.

Lori Fox

I don't like kids.

In fact, I was in Africa with a design group and trusting God to use my skills in that way.

He had bigger plans.

On my days off from the design work I was able to join with the Ecclesia team's kids camp. I was a bit apprehensive. I never grew up around kids, being an only child from a small family, so I don't really know what to do with them. Woody Allen said "80% of success is showing up." I decided I could at least do that. I showed up. The kids came to me.

I can run.

I can sing.

I can dance.

I did, we did.

Smiles.

Beauty.

It wasn't so bad. They didn't bite.

The next couple of times I went with the team to the Kibera Slum to visit some of the children's homes. It was difficult to see what their definition of "home" meant. Pain. Poverty. Hunger. Loneliness.

Yet somehow they were so alive. So full of the hope of Christ at such a young age. A huge contrast to the hopeless eyes that watched us from the roadside. I've been on my own quest for hope the past few years. Knowing Christ is to be my hope, but what does that look like in the midst of darkness and death? I'll tell you. It looks like the faces of these children. Smiling in the face of hunger. Speaking back to the giants of injustice. For the first time since my quest began, I was able to see a clear visual of true Hope in action. The life-giving, living, breathing power of God, His Word, His Son, actively moving and transforming lives for good against all opposition. These kids were like little yellow flowers growing in a barren desert.

The last time I met with the kids was at the retreat center where we were hosting the camp. A couple of the children began to latch on to me by this point. When I wasn't playing with the kids I was able to tuck into the background and help with serving food, or making gift bags. I was thankful I was able to serve in ways I'm comfortable with, but also that I was stretched into new realms of service in "kid-land". It's not hard to love kids. Give them a teaspoon of love and it can nourish them for days. I was glad our team brought quite a few gallons between all of us.

I had to be in a design meeting for the last few hours the kids were with us. I was meeting with the Maasai women inside the centre, but could see kids performing on the outside. They were doing skits and dramas, songs and dances. And don't tell anyone, but I wished I was out there with them.

Luke 18:16-17 "But Jesus called the children to him and said, ' Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.'"

I guess kids aren't so bad after all. In fact, I'd be wise to act like one more often.

Will Wadsworth

Africa, wow. I never really planned on going to Africa. I guess Africa planned on going to me. Now that I am back home, all I can think about are the kids. They had the light that we all talk about. They had the hope that we all need to keep. They had the joy that we often want. They had all of this in an environment where I find it difficult to smile. To add to this, so many of them seemed to care for so much for others. When praying for a little girl, I asked her what she would like prayer for. Her answer was, “That you all return home safely and then to us safely again.” In the midst of what I would call pretty dire need, her prayer was for us to be cared for and to be a part of their lives. On the first day, I wondered whether or not the children that we were going to be working with would really care about our presence there. At the end of that first day, several of the kids chanted, “Tomorrow! Tomorrow! We will see you tomorrow!”

The younger children had sheer joy. The older youths were a bit more sober, yet they had a determination to out-shine the darkness that they saw all around them (sorry if that was corny). Seriously though, these youths made me either realize or remember that its not what you have that matters , its who you have. If nothing else, they had Jesus Christ and they had each other. I could see this as they danced, played soccer, ate together, and in many other ways. Two young boys that I remember were named Felix and Alex. They were a couple of young athelets with great senses of humor. When I got out of the hospital (no big deal), Alex came up to me and asked if I remembered him. I did then and I still do.

When I was in the hospital (as a result of something I ate), I believe that I saw another side of Kenya. I saw compassion in the doctors and nurses that tended to me as well as others. I was in a bed next to a retired Bishop, a government counselor, and a Scottish ex-patriot. God was in there with all of us. I felt unified for a while with the other patients. I think that this was a result of experiencing some pain together. I may have felt frustrated, a bit sad, and a little scared in that hospital, but I did not feel alone. I could sense that God was in there with each one of us. While laying in bed, I thought about the kids of Kibera and their families. This made my tiny suffering seem very pale in comparison. I think that God may have used my little hospital experience as a way to humble me and as a way to ask me to tune into the suffering of those around me.

During our final week, I met an older youth named William. He called himself “Cartoon.” He was a bit of a comedian and a smooth guitar player. This young man was standing strong and celebrating life in a place that seemed like it could threaten to knock him down rather easily. I hope that I will be able project the kind of love that people like this had in Africa as I continue in my walk with Christ.

Peace,

Will

Chris Chow

It has been incredibly hard to decide which stories to share in this blog. Each precious child has an amazing and touching story, as you can see in my teammate's entries. I've decided to continue my blog entry from last year. I was blessed to be able to return for a second time and had the opportunity to reconnect with Dickson, a 12 year-old boy with a charisma that is difficult to forget. I was amazed by how much he has matured in a year. He has grown from a shy, soft-spoken 11-year-old into a natural leader - very aware and vocal. He spoke about the Kenyan government's issues with an eloquence and authority beyond his years. His dream is to become president one day to make a difference. He recited his favorite verse, Matthew 28:19, which speaks about making disciples of all nations. Dickson told us that his father used to be a drunkard and a drug abuser, but stopped ever since he became a Christian. He has so much potential, but the reality is that he has very limited opportunities living in Kibera. He asked if he could come back with me to the US. He inspires me to do whatever I can to give him an opportunity to rise out of poverty and fulfill his potential. I have a recording of our conversation:





- Me: Do you remember us, the camp last year?
- Dickson: Yes
- Me: Do you remember what you got on the last day?
- Dickson: I got a car (it was a Hot Wheels toy for reciting the memory verses)
- Me: What color?
- Dickson: Blue
- Me: Who gave it to you?
- Dickson: Chris
- Me: What did you tell Chris on the last day. Do you remember?
- Dickson: I will never forget you. God bless you, and take care. Next year - you will come next year?
- Me: I will try to come again next year
- Dickson: Are you going to help me?
- Me: Help you how?
- Dickson: Supporting me. I don’t have someone supporting me.
- Me: I would
- Dickson: I want to go to the US.
- Me: Why? To go to school?
- Dickson: Yes. And I ask you a question. Are you going to be taking what I’m saying to the US?
- Me: Yes. I am going to be showing this to a lot of people.
- Dickson: Thank you. Bye!

Erin Brown

On the last day of homecare camp we spent time and prayed for each individual child in a large group. Every child in the camp was prayed for by one of us from Ecclesia. After that we broke up into our teams and my team, the red team, decided we wanted to pray for each member of our team as well.

Naphtalie, Brent, and I had the kids sit in a circle and we traveled around it. I kneeled in front of each child and held their hands as I prayed for them. During that time the lord revealed a lot of things to me about each child. I began to pray for very specific parts of their lives. The kids all began to cry as I prayed with them, the holy spirit was revealing things to both of us… he was helping me get to know these kids we were serving, and he was assuring both of us of his presence and his love.

In that hour I got to know the kids more deeply and personally than I did the whole week prior.

Kirsten Bosch "KB"

“Dear KB, I am going to miss you because your last day is today. I would like to go with you to your country where you live. I hope that you can come next year. I am thankful I can call you my friend. I tell my friends about you very much.

Your lovely friend Peninah”

This is an excerpt from a letter given to me on my last day with the GLY kids. It was written by a girl named Peninah who is 7 years old (girl on top in red jacket.) I met her on my first trip to Kenya 3 years ago and was so excited to see her again along with many of the other kids we had befriended on prior trips. I was so moved by her words. It was such an emotional day anyway since we had all been dreading the inevitable act of saying good-bye. As we embraced and both shed tears, she handed me the letter along with a little Teddy bear to take as a keepsake and a way for me to remember her. In her soft-spoken voice she whispered that she wished she could go home with me. I was so touched by her letter and her desire to go home with me. It’s difficult to verbalize all of the different thoughts that run through your mind at that point in time. And yes, one of them definitely was wondering whether I could sneak her back to the States. J

In spite of our language barrier and how little she knows about me, she wanted to go home with me. Wow – just amazing! It’s difficult to think about the emotional state many of these kids are in. They have had to grow up so quickly, oftentimes without any parents or very little, if any, hands-on adult supervision. Many are orphans who have either been raised by older siblings or who have found themselves in a position where they are taking care of their younger siblings. And yet, despite the fact that these kids have grown up in a slum under very difficult conditions and have been subjected to many horrendous things at such a young age, their innocent longing for affection, attention and healthy love is the same as any child’s around the world. What a gift it is for us to have the opportunity to have met these kids, to have a chance to love on them and deepen the friendships we have formed over the years. They have truly blessed my life and their strong faith continues to inspire me. We have seen so many amazing things happen over the last several years. It’s encouraging to see God work in so many tangible ways and to see Him provide the comfort and peace these kids need when they feel all alone in this world!

Before I left for Kenya, I was wondering whether this would be my last trip. Since this was my third time, I thought maybe it was time to open up another spot to somebody else next year. Well, if anything, this past trip has solidified my desire to continue to go back to spend time with my Kenyan friends. This is such an important partnership and I feel blessed to be part of it. I will keep my promise to Peninah and my other Kenyan friends to never forget them and to come back next year.

Naphtali Wall

"I'm in love!!!" I am sure many of you reading this blog can remember
a time in your life where you first started to "fall in love" and you
found yourself talking with friends, family and often strangers about
your "special someone" . When you were not talking about him/her,you
were thinking about that person and everyone around you could tell
what your thinking about because no matter what you can't get that
goofy grin off your face. I went to Kenya expecting to enjoy the
children we did camp with, experience things I had never seen before
and learn things about myself. Never in a million years did I expect
to come back 2 weeks later in love and in many ways heartbroken over
having to leave my new love or loves in Kenya. I came back wanting to
tell everyone I met about the beautiful resilient children who I did
life with for 2 weeks and share with others everything I knew about my
new love. The problem has been is every time I go to share I suddenly
feel like I am speaking Swahili to a group of Munzungus (Swahili for
white person) and I am left feeling like I have not represented the
power and beauty of the people of Kenya or be able to share fully
their stories. Over the last few days I have been hearing God remind me
that He knows each of the children's stories , each of their needs and
I can only share a bit of that.


One of the beautiful aspects of Ecclesia's commitment to Kenya is the
relational aspect of our trips. As a church we support( both
financially and through prayer) Homecare Fellowship and Ghetto Light
and as a church body have been visiting our friends in Kibera for the
past 4 years. In a culture where relationship and time spent are the
essential tools used to communicate care I realized how important it
is that we send not only financial support but, that each year we
send friends to go bear with our brothers and sisters in Kenya. In a
community of over a million where children are prolific and often not
seen as valuable as a church community we choose to go offer children
the gift of knowing that they are valuable, seen and prayed for daily.

One of my new friends in Kenya is Joyce. Joyce is six years old and
does not speak a lot of English. I am not sure of Joyce's story, I do
not know who she lives with, if she is safe right now or how often she
goes to bed hungry. What I do know about Joyce is that I will see her
again because Joyce with her timid little voice, her big beautiful
broken blood vessel eyes and with child like faith choose to accept
Christ as her savior during our first week of camp. There are a few
images from Kenya which continue to play through my mind nightly and
getting to pray with Joyce is one of them. At the end of both of the
camps we would pray with each member of the camp individually. I loved
loved loved loved each time I got to pray with a child on these days.
On Friday during the week Joyce came to camp I had the blessing to be
able to pray with my little love Joyce. Joyce was different then any
of the other children I prayed with that day because Joyce to the best
of my knowledge does not speak English and I do not speak Swhalli. As
I started to pray that day Joyce locked eyes with me and seemed to in
that moment to know the prayer of my heart for her and see how
special she is to God reflected from God through my eyes to her. I
will never forget just how powerful her gaze was during that prayer
and how blessed I felt to shower my little Joyce with words of truth
regarding how precious she is to God. I can't wait to return to Kenya
again and hopefully see my little Joyce , but am more excited to know
that no matter what happens regarding me being able to return to Kenya
that I will see little precious Joyce again someday in Heaven

Brent Johnson

When the kids first arrived and came running down to get their nametags it took everything in me not to start crying. After we had talked so much about them and the environment that they are surviving and what their lives are like. Seeing them for the first time made them real. I now saw real kids in front of me that are living in these conditions that we all had talked so much about. I always knew that they were going to be little kids, but they were all so small. Once they started to play and laugh, their smiles lit up the entire yard. Some of the kids had the ability to completely melt me with their smiles. They are very unique smiles with so much character to them. They were all just so sweet and innocent that it is just mind boggling how someone could raise their hand to one of these kids let alone beat them. So many of them had so many scars. Some from accidents and some were from beatings. But they are still so full of joy.

It was interesting to see how the adults had the same look of wonder as the kids whenever they were playing with the cameras. The teachers that came with the kids would sometimes act like the kids. They would decorate their journals with stickers and coloring lying on their stomachs with the kids. Even when we passed out lollypops they would even ask for two sweets. Sometimes they would even hold our hands as we walked or talked. They were just as sweet as the kids were. It was so much fun to see how excited Linet got when we asked her to be in one of the skits. She jumped up grabbed my hand and ran over to the rest of the players to find out what she would be doing.

There was one little girl there, Rosemary, which seemed very independent and motherly towards the rest of the kids. She would keep them in check a lot of the time if they were starting to get out of line she would lightly pop them in the back of the head to get them back in place. All of the kids are incredibly strong there to be able to survive the environment that they are living in, but Rosemary seemed stronger in the sense that she was also looking after a lot of the other kids besides surviving herself. I didn’t feel like I was able to do anything for her the entire time that we were there because she had things under control. But then at the end of the week when we were leaving she was one of the kids that was crying the most because she didn’t want us to leave and she was going to miss us all so much. I always wonder if we are actually doing anything to really help them while we are there and seeing how she reacted to our leaving made me feel really good about what we were doing there. We aren’t changing the world that they live in there at all. But at least we can give them some hope and show them that people really do love them. So many of the kids have nobody to raise them so they are just learning how to live on their own on the streets with no guidance and no one to set a good example for them to live up to. They didn’t even know what to do when they got cut or hurt. They didn’t know to keep it clean, what to do with a band aid, or how long to leave it on once it is on there. I was able to help a kid named Lucas with his hand. It had a huge blister on it that had already become infected. It hurt him a lot, but he would hardly even flinch when I was working on it. Every time that I asked if what I was doing hurt him, he would very calmly say yes. We had to pop it and squeeze out as much as we could in order to clean it out. We changed and cleaned it out every day that we were there. On our last day while I was cleaning and rebandaging his hand for the last time, I realized that we really couldn’t do that much for them. I did as much as I could to help him, but it still wasn’t enough. I have no idea what is going to happen to it from then on. Over three weeks have gone by now and I just pray that has healed by now. We left him with some more band-aids and a small packet of Neosporin. I got one of the translators to translate exactly how to use it and what to do, but was he going to be able to keep it clean enough for it to heal properly? What would have happened with the infection if it was just allowed to go on without anything being done to clean it out?

I now have something to look forward to. I can’t wait to go back and see all of my new friends again. It’s going to be hard this year now that I know so many of the kids there and have a small idea of what they have to live in. All I can do is pray that they are safe. With the droughts getting worse and worse for them I can’t get them out of my thoughts and just pray that they will be able to find enough food for themselves and their families. So many of these small children have to provide for smaller siblings and friends. It does give me hope for them to see how well they all look out for each other. I miss all of them so much every day.

Dianna Park

It's funny. I had a really hard time even starting this because I had no idea where to begin. If you have asked me in person about how my trip was to Africa, I probably gave you the canned reply, "It was absolutely amazing! Yea, it was really great!" Then I would probably change the subject. I'm not sure why. It WAS absolutely amazing. It WAS really great. It was probably one of the best experiences of my life ever, yet I never had the words to talk about it.

However, this trip wasn't about me. It wasn't my trip to Kenya. It wasn't even the Kenya team's trip to Kenya. It was OUR trip to Kenya including the entire Ecclesia Hollywood body and anyone who supported us financially and/or through prayer. So I can't be selfish and keep my stories to myself. As your ambassador, it is my duty to bring these stories back and allow you to be a part of this experience, because you already are. So here I go…


One of the greatest lessons I learned while I was in Kenya was while I was prepping for one of the lessons we were teaching during VBS. We based the first week’s VBS program on the Lord’s Prayer. Each day, we took a little part of the prayer and illustrated different characteristics of God: God Listens, God Provides, God Forgives, God Protects, and God Rules. Chris and I were in charge of planning for Day 2, God Provides.



At first I thought it would be pretty straightforward. I knew that I wanted to use the illustration about God providing of Manna in the desert while the Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years. It seemed perfect. They were nomads, they were not yet in the Promised Land and their lives were not easy, yet God provided just enough food for them everyday. But as I was flushing it out, I realized it wasn’t going to be as simple as I thought. Or was it?



I struggled with this lesson everyday for a month before we left for our trip. I didn’t think I could do it. How could I prepare a lesson, as a privileged girl from the United States, who has always had more than enough, who has never had to worry about her next meal, for a bunch of kids from Kibera, who live in dirt shacks, who wear the same clothes day in and day out, who always wonder from where there next meal with come, that God is going to provide just what they need everyday?



But God is good. And He not only provides our physical needs, but He is faithful to see us through all our questions and struggles if we seek His counsel. He always leads us on these great adventures that result in a deeper and clearer understanding of who He is. This lesson led me on a mental and emotional roller coaster. I struggled with this lesson a lot. I cried about it almost everyday. I wrestled with it. And that’s what God wanted me to do. Especially on the Sunday night before camp started. Naphtali, Chris, Will and I, in an effort to write down something cohesive for the teaching team, really dove into what it really meant to ask God for our daily bread and trust God to provide it. We went all over the place. For example, based on the Exodus story, God expected the children of Israel to trust and obey. They needed to gather only what was necessary for that day and trust that the Manna would be provided again the next day. They needed to obey God’s command of resting on the Sabbath. But would that then open the can of worms that they are doing something wrong to find themselves in the state that they are? That if God doesn’t happen to provide them with a meal tonight, does that mean they didn’t trust ENOUGH? Obey ENOUGH? Or worse, that God just didn’t care about them? Needless to say, I was going through some really deep theological questions that I knew we couldn’t address in one 20-minute session. We had to pare it down, but how? By midnight, we had a million ideas, but nothing seemed to be exactly what we wanted. We were all tired so we decided to call it a night and we all decided to pray about it and trust that God would give us the right words to say when the time came.



The next morning, I came upon this little nugget: John 6:26-35



33“For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”

35 Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.”



Then it hit me. Why didn’t I see that it was so simple?



God does provide. He provides for our physical needs, our emotional needs, our spiritual needs. He is faithful. He does ask us to trust Him and to obey Him. His provision may not look the same in every circumstance. He provides with food, shelter, clothing, family, friends, community, education, talents, art, music, etc… But at the foundation of it all, Jesus is the ultimate provision. And we always have access to Him, because we have a Father who loves us and listens to us, forgives and protects us and He is the ruler of the world.



In the end, we focused on Jesus. And that was all we needed. Those kids have incredible faith. Their eyes are focused upward. Their sustenance comes from Him who gives them the strength and the comfort to live everyday with joy. They see each day as a blessing and don’t take anything for granted. They rely on God for everything. And in the end, they give Him more room to work in their lives and they know from where each good and perfect gift comes and give thanks. They live in a way that I strive to live day by day.



There are more stories. And I want to share them. I’ll try my best. You deserve to be a part of this experience because those kids want you to be a part of it. They pray for you everyday and they desire to be a part of your prayers as well. Bwana Asifiwe!


-Dianna

Milan Cronovich

How does one begin to recall the many incredible moments that were experienced in this past trip to Kenya? For me, there are volumes and volumes to record, and as I sit here writing this, I keep on thinking about all of the faces, names, stories, tears and great joy of my friends from Kibera. They are so resolute, so strong, so dependent on God's provision. They come from dire situations beyond our imagining, yet they have immense joy and hope. Having gone last year and returning this year, I was greatly encouraged by this trip. I was able to see friends that I had made and to meet new ones, many of whom portrayed to me incredible stories of hardship, devastation and the transforming power of God in their lives. We were able to see how the ministries have grown and to be encouraged by all of the new faces and the work being done...

One of the most powerful things for me, this year, was the first moment of recognition that I had with some of the kids I'd met last year. Not really knowing how much what we do lasts (I mean, we're only there for about two weeks each year), that moment was a huge confirmation that we are connected. When some of those kids saw me and ran up to me, calling me by name and throwing their arms around my neck . . . WHEW! What great joy! It was so encouraging and overwhelming and just tore me up. That moment will move you to tears. It really is a piece of Heaven on earth. (Below is a picture of me and one such child: Whitney - she's incredible. She said to me that she prayed everyday so that we would come back. They take prayer very seriously - something for us to strive for!)

God allowed me to be a part of the work He is doing in Kenya and despite great distance, lack of technology and numerous other obstacles, He draws us together with a familial bond that you can't forget. I don't know what the future holds, but I know that a piece of my heart is in Nairobi, in the Kibera slum with a couple groups of children and the amazing adults who sacrifice so much to be their leaders. Because of that, I am striving to live everyday in a way that honors them and that will allow me to continue to go back year after year.

This rumination continues to amaze me: God doesn't need me to do His work or to love and care for the children in Kibera. He is God and can do whatever He wills! But, He allows me that great and joyous experience so that I may know love, be blessed by it and have it shape my life into something more wonderful and rich than I could have ever had without it. Bwana a sifiwe! (Praise the Lord!)

Paul Moorhead

We were all asked to share a story for the blog from our time in Kenya, something specific that can help all of you who are reading to get a glimpse of what are time in Kenya was like. Hopefully something that can give you a small picture of what people are experiencing there, what their joys and struggles are, how we were personally touched by one person’s story, about how God is moving.



I had a bit of a hard time trying to decide, “what is that for me?.” I thought of a young boy who had his entire toenail ripped off. I bandaged it only to see it covered in dirt, open, infected a few days later in Kibera. No one looks after his toe. Who looks after him? Who cares for him? What does his toe tell me about the rest of his life? I thought of one of the adults who shared a powerful story about how she had been raped over and over again as a child and was told by her mother that it was normal, that she was growing up, and who later fell into prostitution and a marriage at age 12. God changed her life. We heard many stories like these that make you sigh, make you just sit there with a heavy chest and wonder why.



I want to share most, though, about a 7 year old boy named Amos. I don’t really have an incredible story about him, I don’t even really know his story – he didn’t speak more than a few words of English. I don’t exactly remember the moment when I first met Amos, but he was stuck to me like glue from early the first day through the end of the week. It’s funny, many of us felt as if we made our best friends in the first 7 seconds of our first week of camp. We all felt a strong general burden for all the kids there that week, but especially for a few close to us. Amos was always at my side holding my hand, yelling, “Paul! Paul!” (Pole! Pole!)when he wanted to show me something or get me to play the game he wanted to play. He wore that orange sweater you see in the picture a number of the days with us. He was always cheerful and engaging. He was best friends with another boy named Christopher. One day Christopher accidentally hit Amos and gave him quite the lump on his forehead, and Christopher was not the most apologetic about it. I consoled Amos and encouraged Christopher to say he was sorry. But, it was Amos who got up from his crying to give Christopher a hug and get back to playing.



I was reminded in Kenya of how there’s really nothing on earth like the genuine affection of a child. It’s amazing how much you can bond with someone without even speaking the same language. We just spent time together, played together, looked out for one another. I feel comfortable in most situations in life, but I, like all of you, want to feel accepted, loved, wanted. Amos was kind of an anchor for me in that way. It was so moving to see this young boy who instantly loved me. Each day I could look forward to spending time with Amos. I probably looked for him more intently when the kids arrived than he did for me! Now mind you, our trip was NOT about us. It was not about a bunch of Americans going to Africa so that they could get the chance to experience and view the people there, to see the way they live, to give them a hand. We are part of a fairly new, exciting, ongoing relationship, a friendship with our friends in Kibera. We did go there to minister to them, to encourage them, to love the children of Kibera who need desperately to know that they are loved, and that God loves them – but, we were ministered to in ways that we cannot express. And for me, Amos is one of the people who affected my experience in Kenya as much as anything else, who ministered to me in a personal way. I want to go back to Kenya. Not because it was fun, which it was. Not because I think it’s a good thing to do. I want to go back to see Amos, and the rest of our friends who love us and whom we have grown to love.

Just as an FYI to those who check this blog on occasion, we will be updating this throughout the year (possibly even renaming it Ecclesia Kenya?). As our church plans on visiting Kenya on a yearly basis, those of us who feel so led will be holding prayer meetings and fundraisers. These prayer meetings and fundraisers will be a year-round endeavor.

Updates and personal anecdotes from the recently finished trip to follow.