Monday, PART TWO
Monday October 8, 2007
Nairobi, Kenya
…continued
We left the polytechnic school and proceeded to our next stop. About 20minutes down the road we stopped at a vegetable stand. Florence was our next visitor. We popped out of car and probably scared the living day lights from her. She smiled graciously as did the people visiting her. She is 20 years old and has been in charge of taking care of her family for years. She lost her parents to HIV/AIDS a long time ago too, and has been responsible for taking care of her younger siblings, grandmother, and aunt. They are the last ones living. She hasn’t had a mommy & daddy for a very long time. And her grandmother is a great help to her, but she also takes care of some of her needs too. While Florence was greeting us, she took off into the bush to pull her grandmother over to talk to us too. Oh and friends, she was so beautiful. All the wrinkles in her face and the softness of her hands. She shook my hand with such a grip and kept smiling at me and saying the most beautiful things in Swahili. The group that understood sighed profusely. And when I asked what she had said. They told me that she kept shaking my hand because I was so young and beautiful and she liked to look at my smile. What a kind thing for her to say. She kept shaking my hand and I didn’t mind. Not one bit. Then Florence began to talk about her vegetable stand. Her grandmother and her are the farmers and the CRWRC gave her a small loan to start her business. She now makes about 300 shillings a day. That’s equivalent to $4 dollars a day. $28 dollars a week. This has lead her to buy a milk producing goat. It has also lead her to buy 6 chickens & one cockrel. She is making great profits. She is an excellent business woman. Thank God for Florence.
We then traveled about 6 kilometers to a super high mountain region. We parked and proceeded to walk down a farm land area. It was so muddy. So hot. So gorgeous.
It dawned on me after a 20 minute drive, 6 kilometers, and a small treck down a hill…and I asked Nema,
‘How do your case workerss travel out here?’
“they walk, “ Nema said.
‘they walk all the way out here? 6km, two days per week, and then 6km back to home?’
“yes”
THEY NEED BIKES!
We so can do this
WE CAN GET THEM BIKES!
We arrived to a stack of homes on the property and to a grandmother who was in the middle of eating ugali (crem of wheat substance). She shook our hands and let us walk around her farm. She had a cow that produced milk. She also had a momma, papa, and baby sheep. She had a cute kitty cat. And tons of chickens. Big fat chickes. The grandmother Wami, takes care of the surviving family. She lost all of her children except one daughter. Cares for four orphaned grandchildren. She has one daughter but she gives her a lot of trouble and eventhough she is grown, she takes care of her too. The grandmother walked around proud and inviting. She says that she beilieves in the power of prayer because she had been praying for visitors that day. And as we left she asked for us to pray for her. And she turend to Nema and just loved on her. She told her that she needs to eat plenty of food and that she should come and stay for a day or perhaps five so she could take care of nema. She probably understood and felt the hard work and labors that nema is under and the pressures it can cause. She then grabbed Nema and hugged her and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Nema quickly walked to her car and started to cry. She asked martin,the pastor traveling with us to pray. And he did. While he prayed my spiritual gifts kicked in and the Holy Spirit grasped my attention. And the prophetic started to flow from these lips of clay. I told her so much about what God had showed me about her prayer life. What she tells the Lord throughout the day, and night. And it was proof to her that God does hear and care. It was specific personal things that only her and God had known. The Lord called out death and suicide from that conversation. That it wasn’t her time to go, and it wasn’t because she was serving a deaf God. God heard her prayers. She then gave me a great big hug. And her daughter heard the whole conversation and had cried a bit too. The Holy Spirit had performed a miracle on that isolated mountain of Kenya. I hugged Wami, and gaver her a huge kiss on her cheek. When I walked back to my car her case worker told me that her son and husband had committed suicide a few months ago. And that there was only one man to help her with all that land, and that she was going to kill herself too. How would I have known to speak those words of specific encouragement if hadn’t been for the Holy Spirit? I looked at the case worker and she had tears of happiness in her eyes. We cancelled together what the devil meant for bad, God made good. Amen?
We then stopped to visit Esther. She has a huge piece of land. The biggest I had ever seen. She takes care of all the land herself and feeds her animals, and takes care of her children. She works hard all day long. She maintains her home and the land is perfect. Not one dry tree. Not one weed in her kayle field. Not one. All because of her hands. She also gives her two grandbabies ARVs’. Her case worker taught her how to care for her grandchildren. They were in school because of her great nursing capabilities, but her grandchildren 5 and 7 are HIV positive. The wives of her sons had passed away or left. Her two sons died. A month after her last son passed so did her husband. When we asked her how we could pray for her, she said, pray for me because I’m aging. I’m still strong but I’m slower now. Pray that God gives me more years to take care of my babies. My mother was right, no one knows the desperate love a mother has for her children. We prayed for her. We took a great liking to one another. We walked through her farm holding hands and then she walked me to our car. She was in great spirits as we left. She waited at the edge of the road because the kids were out of school and soon on their way home. So precious.
At our last stop I broke out the video camera. We were about to meet Nyamathubi. She leads a womens support group. And when I mean leads, she changes their universe. She motivates them to do things that anyone else would say impossible. She practices micro loans for small businesses, she helps women do the paperwork and accounting, she prays with women, takes care of their children, and so so so much more. I walked down a mountain and to the right of the path was a great smaill home. We were welcomed in. We were welcomed to hear her life story. She began to tell us that she was ready to die in bed. She layed in bed for a season, ready to die. The butched kept coming over and offering her little money for her emaciated cow. The cow was emaciated because the HIV had worn her down so much. She had lost her husband shortly before that too. And someone from the CRWRC connected her to getting medicine. The ARV’s that she needed and within days she was back at work in the fields. She gave grain to her cow and she was soon getting milk from it. From the produce that she sells she was able to buy other farm animals too. And from the small profits and an accounting female friend they started to help women in their community open business. They developed a banking/pay back system. Protocol of what they look for to make sure that the business is successful. A mentorship clause that the women have to train other women too. The list goes on and on and on. I videoed her testimony too, and will share it with you one day. Probably when I get back home. I also spoke to her about the visions and words that God gave me when she spoke. The women listened around her and the interpreter began to cry. She hugged me and claimed the word of the Lord to be true. And we loved on her with prayers. The interpreter later asked me how I knew that conditions that I talked about. I told him God told me. He was in awe. I then told him…you knew too and God heard those prayers.
After this last visit many of us were very tired and anxious to get back home to rest. We drove through commuter hour and the Nairobi city was alive. Bright lights. Cars. Pedestrians. Food vendors. It was alive and wild. I loved it. On the way back the pastor traveling with us broke down. He had gone in thinking that he wouldn’t be a pastor and he was just hear to learn like the rest of everyone. But everytime he mentioned that he was a pastor in Canada the room lit up and immediately the women would ask for prayer. Martin broke down. He began to cry on the way. He realized that no words in any language could express the love of Christ like that of tears. God speaks in tears.
It’s now 5am. I must get ready for our Mombasa adventures.
Pray for me. Pray for Africa.
Nairobi, Kenya
…continued
We left the polytechnic school and proceeded to our next stop. About 20minutes down the road we stopped at a vegetable stand. Florence was our next visitor. We popped out of car and probably scared the living day lights from her. She smiled graciously as did the people visiting her. She is 20 years old and has been in charge of taking care of her family for years. She lost her parents to HIV/AIDS a long time ago too, and has been responsible for taking care of her younger siblings, grandmother, and aunt. They are the last ones living. She hasn’t had a mommy & daddy for a very long time. And her grandmother is a great help to her, but she also takes care of some of her needs too. While Florence was greeting us, she took off into the bush to pull her grandmother over to talk to us too. Oh and friends, she was so beautiful. All the wrinkles in her face and the softness of her hands. She shook my hand with such a grip and kept smiling at me and saying the most beautiful things in Swahili. The group that understood sighed profusely. And when I asked what she had said. They told me that she kept shaking my hand because I was so young and beautiful and she liked to look at my smile. What a kind thing for her to say. She kept shaking my hand and I didn’t mind. Not one bit. Then Florence began to talk about her vegetable stand. Her grandmother and her are the farmers and the CRWRC gave her a small loan to start her business. She now makes about 300 shillings a day. That’s equivalent to $4 dollars a day. $28 dollars a week. This has lead her to buy a milk producing goat. It has also lead her to buy 6 chickens & one cockrel. She is making great profits. She is an excellent business woman. Thank God for Florence.
We then traveled about 6 kilometers to a super high mountain region. We parked and proceeded to walk down a farm land area. It was so muddy. So hot. So gorgeous.
It dawned on me after a 20 minute drive, 6 kilometers, and a small treck down a hill…and I asked Nema,
‘How do your case workerss travel out here?’
“they walk, “ Nema said.
‘they walk all the way out here? 6km, two days per week, and then 6km back to home?’
“yes”
THEY NEED BIKES!
We so can do this
WE CAN GET THEM BIKES!
We arrived to a stack of homes on the property and to a grandmother who was in the middle of eating ugali (crem of wheat substance). She shook our hands and let us walk around her farm. She had a cow that produced milk. She also had a momma, papa, and baby sheep. She had a cute kitty cat. And tons of chickens. Big fat chickes. The grandmother Wami, takes care of the surviving family. She lost all of her children except one daughter. Cares for four orphaned grandchildren. She has one daughter but she gives her a lot of trouble and eventhough she is grown, she takes care of her too. The grandmother walked around proud and inviting. She says that she beilieves in the power of prayer because she had been praying for visitors that day. And as we left she asked for us to pray for her. And she turend to Nema and just loved on her. She told her that she needs to eat plenty of food and that she should come and stay for a day or perhaps five so she could take care of nema. She probably understood and felt the hard work and labors that nema is under and the pressures it can cause. She then grabbed Nema and hugged her and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Nema quickly walked to her car and started to cry. She asked martin,the pastor traveling with us to pray. And he did. While he prayed my spiritual gifts kicked in and the Holy Spirit grasped my attention. And the prophetic started to flow from these lips of clay. I told her so much about what God had showed me about her prayer life. What she tells the Lord throughout the day, and night. And it was proof to her that God does hear and care. It was specific personal things that only her and God had known. The Lord called out death and suicide from that conversation. That it wasn’t her time to go, and it wasn’t because she was serving a deaf God. God heard her prayers. She then gave me a great big hug. And her daughter heard the whole conversation and had cried a bit too. The Holy Spirit had performed a miracle on that isolated mountain of Kenya. I hugged Wami, and gaver her a huge kiss on her cheek. When I walked back to my car her case worker told me that her son and husband had committed suicide a few months ago. And that there was only one man to help her with all that land, and that she was going to kill herself too. How would I have known to speak those words of specific encouragement if hadn’t been for the Holy Spirit? I looked at the case worker and she had tears of happiness in her eyes. We cancelled together what the devil meant for bad, God made good. Amen?
We then stopped to visit Esther. She has a huge piece of land. The biggest I had ever seen. She takes care of all the land herself and feeds her animals, and takes care of her children. She works hard all day long. She maintains her home and the land is perfect. Not one dry tree. Not one weed in her kayle field. Not one. All because of her hands. She also gives her two grandbabies ARVs’. Her case worker taught her how to care for her grandchildren. They were in school because of her great nursing capabilities, but her grandchildren 5 and 7 are HIV positive. The wives of her sons had passed away or left. Her two sons died. A month after her last son passed so did her husband. When we asked her how we could pray for her, she said, pray for me because I’m aging. I’m still strong but I’m slower now. Pray that God gives me more years to take care of my babies. My mother was right, no one knows the desperate love a mother has for her children. We prayed for her. We took a great liking to one another. We walked through her farm holding hands and then she walked me to our car. She was in great spirits as we left. She waited at the edge of the road because the kids were out of school and soon on their way home. So precious.
At our last stop I broke out the video camera. We were about to meet Nyamathubi. She leads a womens support group. And when I mean leads, she changes their universe. She motivates them to do things that anyone else would say impossible. She practices micro loans for small businesses, she helps women do the paperwork and accounting, she prays with women, takes care of their children, and so so so much more. I walked down a mountain and to the right of the path was a great smaill home. We were welcomed in. We were welcomed to hear her life story. She began to tell us that she was ready to die in bed. She layed in bed for a season, ready to die. The butched kept coming over and offering her little money for her emaciated cow. The cow was emaciated because the HIV had worn her down so much. She had lost her husband shortly before that too. And someone from the CRWRC connected her to getting medicine. The ARV’s that she needed and within days she was back at work in the fields. She gave grain to her cow and she was soon getting milk from it. From the produce that she sells she was able to buy other farm animals too. And from the small profits and an accounting female friend they started to help women in their community open business. They developed a banking/pay back system. Protocol of what they look for to make sure that the business is successful. A mentorship clause that the women have to train other women too. The list goes on and on and on. I videoed her testimony too, and will share it with you one day. Probably when I get back home. I also spoke to her about the visions and words that God gave me when she spoke. The women listened around her and the interpreter began to cry. She hugged me and claimed the word of the Lord to be true. And we loved on her with prayers. The interpreter later asked me how I knew that conditions that I talked about. I told him God told me. He was in awe. I then told him…you knew too and God heard those prayers.
After this last visit many of us were very tired and anxious to get back home to rest. We drove through commuter hour and the Nairobi city was alive. Bright lights. Cars. Pedestrians. Food vendors. It was alive and wild. I loved it. On the way back the pastor traveling with us broke down. He had gone in thinking that he wouldn’t be a pastor and he was just hear to learn like the rest of everyone. But everytime he mentioned that he was a pastor in Canada the room lit up and immediately the women would ask for prayer. Martin broke down. He began to cry on the way. He realized that no words in any language could express the love of Christ like that of tears. God speaks in tears.
It’s now 5am. I must get ready for our Mombasa adventures.
Pray for me. Pray for Africa.
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