We were told that Africa was going to be hard. We were told that we would be broken and that God would use our brokenness to reach out to his people. I just didn’t expect it to be day one.
Wednesday was our first day of ministry. We drove in the back of a truck out on these really bumpy roads to this town outside of Kakamega, then hiked the rest of the way through the thickest mud I have ever seen in my life. I’m not even really sure what color my shoes are supposed to be anymore. It was a journey. And since we were doing ministry, us girls were wearing skirts. It was an experience to say the least. It was really rough on me since I was feeling really bad the entire time. I tried really hard to have a positive attitude, but at some point, I’m not even sure when, I just gave up. I was not happy and I definitely did not have a joyful spirit. At one point we got to this really slick spot in the mud and we had to kind of jump because the ruts were so big. I was the second person to cross and its kind of hard to jump in a skirt (or maybe it just takes practice) and I all of a sudden I was on the ground. If I had been by myself I probably would have sat there in the mud and cried because it was that kind of day. I felt terrible and I was in the mud. Then about 2 others behind me did the same thing.
Eventually we got to the church in the village we were going to and met the people. They were absolutely amazing but I still wasn’t all there. They even danced for us and taught us how to do a traditional African dance. It was great and I’m sure I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I had been completely there and if I had the right attitude. But then they started reciting poems that they had written in school. They read them in Swahili so our contact translated for us. There was this group of three kids who were maybe 7 years old who wrote a poem about HIV/AIDS. They talked about how bad it was and how it had killed their parents and taken so much from them and how they wanted it gone. And I broke. Day one. Most 7 year olds in America wouldn’t even have that on their radar. They might write poems about sports or their favorite tv show or their family. Not the pain that comes from the disease that has killed so many in their lives. It was both heartbreaking and eye opening. I think all of us knew that these kids faced those realities in their lives but it wasn’t really real to us until we heard it from their own mouths.
