They are street boys.  They have no parents to speak of, or at least none that care.  They survive the day by stealing and scavenging through trash for scraps of food, and the night by burning tires to stay warm.  They are rowdy, hard, and high from the glue they hide in their shirts.  Some wear shirts an organization must have given them that didn’t solve their problems, boasting in careful letters on the back that street kids are human too – in case anyone forgot.  There is a deep sadness within them that they hide by their hard faces and the glue they refuse to let go.  Their innocence has been stripped, and they are forced into reckless adulthood in their child-sized bodies.  And where are the street girls?  I don’t know, and I don’t like to think about it.  

How long can they live on the streets?  What will become of them?  These are questions I cannot answer.  Perhaps some won’t make it, and others will turn into criminals.  But the street kids we have been working with have an advantage because they are LOVED.  Not only by us, but by Pastor William, his wife Pam, and other Kenyans that have been working with them.  

Right now the street boys are so hungry and desperate for a small sack of beans that they fight and tackle each other while waiting in line at church.  My prayer from day one has been that they would become that hungry and desperate for the Bread of Life.  He is offering Himself to them, but they have yet to see Him.  I keep asking Jesus to come get them, to take them away from the lives they have fallen into because of the families they were born into and the choices their parents made.  He will outstretch His mighty arm.  I don’t know what it will look like or what to expect, but we are seeing Him do it right now with Allen and I trust Him to do it for many more.