“Painful memories and bad pictures… people were dying. All around my house I saw people being killed and there was nothing I could do. With my own eyes… I saw them being killed slowly… the people were so innocent. It was awful. One boy had just finished high school… he was running away, but people from another village caught him and he was attacked…”
This isn’t from a Hollywood drama, and it isn’t from a bedside horror novel. This is the somber picture still so fresh in the mind of my African host, Pastor William. This man of God has witnessed first-hand the worst of Kenya’s post-election violence. His story is reminiscent of “Hotel Rwanda.” During the riots, the devastation, and the murdering, he brought into his home refugees and internally displaced persons. He risked everything hiding away people behind the scarcely protected walls of his home, yet his house stood. He witnessed homes and churches being burnt, rioted, and destroyed all around him, yet no one ever attacked his house. It stood as a sanctuary-a safe haven in the midst of extreme violence. This is the house I wake up in every morning. This is the house that I currently call home.
Many of the churches in the area were burned during the riots. William shared with me a bit about how his church has been affected.
“The fact that we did not die, and were never attacked, is true testament to God. It’s still very fresh in mind… it shakes me like it happened just the other day. Before post-election violence we could take care of ourselves, now we are below zero and need to rely on God. In church we have three or four months of rent that we need to pay. We rented a piece of land where we built a temporary building for the church, and the person who rented us the land is not born again and he says ‘Where is your God? This God who cannot pay the church, where is he?‘ It brings a lot of pain and bad memories. Most of the people supporting us left, so we are trying desperately to rebuild from scratch. I tell him, ‘We will honor our promise and pay back the rent.’ They insult me, and get angry at me, but I am gentle and patient. I have nothing else to do. Sometimes my heart is being tried a lot in that. In my church I am not on a salary. The church cannot give that. Here when you start a church or ministry, you go by faith. When I say by faith, I really mean faith. You start with nothing. No instruments, no money, no people. You only have a calling from God.“
Let me share with you what his church looks like. It isn’t perfect. It isn’t rehearsed. And it isn’t pretty. In fact, it’s very ugly. Most of the church members show up with crude bottles of glue shoved between their teeth so that they can inhale the fumes without using their hands. Many of the men are either aggressive or zombie-like, with sluggish red eyes and drooling lips. One woman passed out on the floor during worship, and her two-year old daughter spent the rest of the service climbing on her motionless body. Many of the members come with serious illnesses and infections. Most of the congregation consists of street children without homes, families, or jobs. Learning to love these people and be real with them has been a challenge. Do we take their glue before feeding them? Sadly, many would not accept that trade. Do we take their glue for the duration of the service and then give it back to them after they have been fed with the Word and with sacks of beans? Some of them wait around in the back until the service is over and then rush to the front to grab sacks of food. The other guys and I have to literally throw guys out of church. Pushing, shoving, and fist fights are not uncommon. Do they go to the altar call each week just to receive a sack of food? Wouldn’t I? What else can we do?
I was overcome yesterday with their poor physical conditions, emotional distress, and spiritual barrenness… I went to a spiderwebbed corner of the building and wept. Here one sees clearly how desperately our world needs to come to God. The picture is crystal clear. What troubles me more, however, is the fact that the healthy and wealthy need Him just as desperately.
Here it might not be pretty and it might not be perfect, but it is real. God loves these people and desires them to know Him. Jesus came for such as these. It is not the healthy who need a doctor. Blessed are these street children because they know they are sick and need to be healed. God is calling these people to inherit His Kingdom. I pray we all recognize our need to be healed.
Pastor William took us on a hike up a hill on the outskirts of our community. The view was breathtaking. He led us to a large rock with writing on it. This rock is where he and his wife come to inscribe their vision and prayers to God. It is intensely personal. He shared with us this special and intimate location and we prayed for him, his wife, and their vision for the church. In two weeks we must leave this place, but we are taking every opportunity to plant seeds, encourage the church, and pray for God’s will in this place. William asked me how I would feel if God took me away from the US to live long-term in Africa. I told him that I don’t know yet what God has in store for me, but as far as right now is concerned, I simply cannot stop praising Him.
