I don't know how to blog...

This is Andrea for the team.

And the reason I don't know how to blog....is because it's feeling impossible to pinpoint how I feel...because I am trying to allow my mind and heart to digest what it is I (we) have experienced over the last 48 hours. 

I didn't even read what Sarah wrote - so I'm not sure where she left off...I think it was when we were still in the Accra (Ghana) airport. So, first things first - We have MANY praises: Our luggage all arrived safely. Everyone is safe and healthy. Our transportation has gone smoothly....and by smoothly I actually mean VERY bumpy and so unreal to any kind of American driving experience that I don't even get nervous looking at oncoming traffic because it feels completely unreal and out of body. Not only do they drive on the opposite side of the car and road than us...but the painted lines don't really matter...and, to me, the laws on the road is that there are no roads. Except, of course, that pedestrians must yield to traffic or you'll get hit.  

Now, if the driving experience here in Kenya is hard for me to explain...I'm beginning to get nervous about trying to search for words and adjectives to describe what we did yesterday (whatever day yesterday was....I don't even know what day it is today!?!)

We spent the day yesterday going to two slums. Both are in Nairobi (where we stayed in the hotel overnight). The Soweto Slums was the first slum where we drove in and visited with the Hope Bright Future School. My every sense was radically shocked as we bounced around the dirt roads and arrived at the school. We were greeted by 200 children who TI works with and funds. They sung, danced, and recited their memory verses for us. We were given a brief history of the slums, the school, etc. Toward the end of our time there, we were able to play in this open area with the children...we were tackled by them as they swarmed for us to chase them and take their picture just so we could turn our digital screens back to show them their photos! They were beyond thrilled. 

As we piled back into the Matatu (a crazy, crowded van of sorts...that would never reach any sort of inspection in the states)...we drove towards the Kibera slums and I asked Faith how Kibera could possibly be any worse than the circumstances we just observed. And she answered with a brief, "Oh, you'll see."

We pulled up to the Kibera Slums - the second largest slum in the ENTIRE WORLD...and had to take a ten minute walk into the depths of the slum to reach the Desert Streams School where we were going to meet the students/teachers there and see how that project was going.  ....and here is the part where I feel my heart growing heavy and words seem absent...there is no photo I could show you that could fully capture these slums. There are no words I could share with you because, as Americans, we have no frame of reference for such a place. Any bubble that I had been living in popped as I stared at my feet trying to avoid walking in the raw sewage with my flip flops on. In the first thirty seconds, I had a marriage proposal. I think I walked out with three. As I continued to walk, I tasted everything I was smelling - sewage, exhaust, rotting who knows what, etc. I realized after about 10 minutes of walking that I had hardly lifted my head up because I didn't want to make eye contact with anyone....out of guilt, of brokenness, out of extreme awkwardness, out of nervousness. There we were, a mass of white people walking into a place where white people don't walk...and children ran up to us screaming, "Hi, how are you?! Hi, How are you!?" because that was one of the only things they could say in English. They touched our hands and white skin. They, so innocently and excitedly, waved and we waved back...it felt as if we were some sort of American celebrities...but it was an absolutely awful feeling. As I met eye contact with the adults, I wonder what their thoughts were behind their straight, cold faces...some smiled...but others, I just felt, thought "Who are these white people coming in to observe our lives as if we're some exhibit to feel sorry for and then leave?" It was such a helpless feeling.

I went numb. I couldn't even recognize any emotion within me because my mind was so far from myself...until one of our teammates asked us when we finally arrived at the school and were seated if I was okay...and then the tears came. No. I was definitely not okay. After a couple minutes of trying to hide my tears, they managed to momentarily dry up. The starters of this school/ministry, Lois (I think her name is) and her husband Tobias, offered us tea. They made us their chai tea and opened up two bags of white bread and evenly distributed it among us. They had nothing and yet so warmly offered us the little that was available. The children were just ridiculously adorable, so well-behaved, such BEAUTIFUL and huge teethy-white grins that stretched from ear-to-ear. We were, again, sung and danced for by each individual age group/grade. We played with the children, getting covered in dirt and whatever was covering them covered us. (For one of our teammates, even ringworm.) But it doesn't stop us from touching them and loving them. 

I saw Jesus in the least of those children and people. I witnessed a people who were so absolutely poor in the eyes of the world, but yet, in spirit, they were SO RICH. Yet we, as Americans, are so often so rich in the eyes of the world and still so very empty inside in our spirits. In the midst of the darkness of those slums were great beacons of light and immense testimony of God's love and restoration! 

Tobias ministered to me and told me that there is great blessing on my feet - and that as I step forward seas will part and God's work will be done..... and the Holy Spirit just filled me up with the great joy and strength to love and serve and rest knowing that God is big enough for this...that He is more than enough for these people....and that He is more than enough for us. 

I left the slums, ignoring the marriage proposals and harassment, avoiding the sewage, and engaging with each person silently as I passed by. My eyes had been refocused while in that school from the great despair and poverty back to the Sovereign God that I serve...and I looked from Jesus straight into the eyes of every person I passed, offering a smile and blessing them and their land as we walked out.

My life has been changed. I wish each of you could experience this. 

So....we are fighting jet lag, we are blowing blackened boogers out of our noses, we are putting ointment on each other's rashes, we are learning what it means not to shower for days......but we are learning what it means to be truly rich in Spirit by God's love and life, we are learning to worship Him in all things....

And, tomorrow, (Saturday!! I finally realized what day it is...oh and remember we're 7 hours ahead of you)....is a day we really need to be covered in prayer. Please intercede.... because tomorrow we will be learning what it means to comfort those who mourn. Because of Jesus, we will be a presence that offers hope in the midst of hopelessness and life in the midst of death. Tomorrow we will be spending our first day out of Nairobi and here in Kitale - where we have been scheduled for quite some time to spend with the orphans....but it so happened that one of the orphan girls, Veronica, died a few days ago from HIV & a chicken pox outbreak. She was 5 or 6 years old, an orphan with two siblings. So on our scheduled day with the orphans, we will be attending a funeral with them for this dear child who is now fully restored and with the Lord. Pray for us as we give of ourselves and empty out Hope and Life and Love into such a tragic time for a children who are missing their friend and sister. God knew we would be needed there to intercede and love these children and it is not by mistake the timing of this. How wild it is that on our very first day in Kitale we will be attending a funeral. Wow.

Of course I wide awake because it's 4pm your time...but it's 11pm our time...so I better go to sleep.

THANK YOU for your prayers....and for reading this long post....hopefully your eyes aren't burning to badly from staring at your computer screen....whatever the words are I just shared really are a scratch on the surface for all that we've seen and experienced. We love you and miss you - thank you for battling on our behalf! We need you :)

Be blessed- (BECAUSE YOU ARE!)