It has rained more than half of the time the team and I have been in Kenya. A week ago, when it finally stopped raining, our hosts were thankful. They told us it had been raining almost every day for a year. During our first three-day crusade of the month, we prayed a lot that it would not rain. It rained each day. The crusade was in the slums, and when it rains in the slums, it floods. Sewage, trash, and mud mix together to make what looks like a chocolate milk river. It is nearly impossible to travel anywhere, but we would always trek through the muck anyway, knowing that Jesus wanted to save some lives.
One of the pastors we were working with sat us down on a rainy afternoon to explain to us what faith meant to him. He told us that, “even though it is raining, it is not raining. If I see that it is raining, but I say that it is not raining, it is not raining.” The team and I did not understand the logic, but appreciated the faith and determination of the pastors.
On the final night of the crusade, it began to rain about halfway through. Katie preached her heart out with the rain coming down and several people that night came to know Jesus. Many people were also healed in Jesus’ name. After the service, my team and I began to dance. I had forgotten my rain jacket that day but I didn’t care. There was so much to jump for joy about. The Lord had done great things in those three days. One of the pastors came to me and told me I should go wait in the car because it was raining and I was getting wet. I looked at him and said, “it’s not raining. Don’t you see I’m dry?” So, even though it was “not” raining, I was dancing in the rain, in a muddy slum, with a bunch of street children, getting soaked, not only by the rain waters, but by the magnificence that is our Savior King…and I don’t ever want to be dry again.
