Monster’s Inc blared loudly in the room as I felt tiny little fingers work their way into the crook of my elbow and I grinned.
Clinton.
I smirked and Russian clawed his belly as he laughed with the kinda gusto that leaves you breathless. Jael, his big sis, tried to suppress her giggle but alas, it slipped out. I caught her just in time to make eye contact then she clammed up and went back to sitting like a stone.
Progress.
Their trademark chins jut out so there’s no denying they’re related. Their tiny bones and big bellies do nothing to convince me their nourished correctly though I’ve watched the portions of vegetables they inhale. Those kids eat. Yet, they aren’t beefy like some of the others.
Later, I saw the dried dirt turning into mud on his face and realized Clinton was crying. I stared into chocolate eyes that have no pupils and asked him what was wrong. He mumbled Swahili so I mumbled English. We didn’t get far but I convinced him to come back inside. He complied but left again shortly after. There’s a haunting look behind his eyes that scrapes at my heart each time I pass him by.
A look that no adult should behold especially not a five year old child.
I spoke with the Pastor over dinner and felt sick as I heard of the travesty that made up the first few years of their lives. Jael and Clinton are half siblings and Clinton’s father was a drunk. A few years after his birth, mother contracted HIV and died shortly thereafter. Clinton and Jael were usually locked in a closet while the man who helped birth him went off to drink and flounder around with women. Thus spreading more HIV since he himself is infected. When they arrived at Rehobeth, they were malnourished and socially awkward. They ate like they’d never eat again and continually wet and defecated their beds. Textbook signs of abuse and neglect.
It’s been a couple years since his arrival and he is safe now but his wounds are deep. My heart hurts and I long to take the tattered sweater and smelly sack of skin and bones and hug the booboos away. But sometimes I just sit at a loss for what I’m supposed to do. His loss is so great and I’m so miniscule. But that’s when God whispered,
It’s not in your own strength that you can love this sort of tragedy away. Depending on Me to minister to this child is the only way to make a difference.
I sat there, humbled, knowing that its not me or my love that can cleanse these broken hearts and make Clinton whole. It’s Jesus. So as we start VBS this week, I’ll be the voice, the mouthpiece that tells of His great love for them and I’ll let the Holy Spirit do the work of saving their souls and healing their wounds to make them whole.
I’m pumped to teach them fun songs about God and Noah’s Ark and Moses and the burning bush. And I plan to dance around like I’m 10. Whatever it takes to see those pearly whites shine through on those beautiful midnight faces.
There’s a Father that has plans for Clinton and Jael and this same Dad is molding my heart for Kenyans much like He did the Filipinos. I mean who doesn’t love a steaming cup of sheep and goat brain soup? Or showering in frigid temperatures or hauling eucalyptus logs in the dreary rain so the kids can have firewood?
There is a sense of routine here but there is also an element of hilarity that exists on the Kenyan mountainside. For starters, whites are a spectacle to behold. Every move is watched and every sound we make captivates our audience. Some days I just join in the fun and pretend like I’m a celebrity or even some odd freak with four noses, which would explain why they all stare uncomfortably at me. I laugh and I shake hands and God bless ‘em all. Shoot, they are so great! I want to hug each one!
But as I look for immediate ways to impact these children’s lives, clothing is the number one priority. It is cold and extremely rainy here and their rags hardly suffice as covering. The gaping holes in shirts and the torn pants just rip at your heart as you stare at their chattering lips. If you’d be interested in partnering with us this month in the Quest to Clothe the Kenyans, my team and I would supremely appreciate it. We are asking the Lord for $450 to give everybody a few new outfits, PJs and shoes. Here’s the link if your interested.
http://www.youcaring.com/help-a-neighbor/clothe-the-orphan/53423
Thanks so much for all of your loving support. Yall rock my socks!
