REDEMPTION SUNDAY- Part 1
I woke Sunday morning at 6 am..rushed to get dressed and ready. The night before had been hard to get to sleep. My mind was anxious. My body was restless. I was too excited to leave all of the day behind and close my eyes. But eventually I parted with the good of saturday and woke with the same uncontrollable joy I fell asleep with. I threw on my clothes, tried to contain my “lions mane”, that has recently been called “chuckster” from Rugrats, threw on some mascara and ran out the door. As I closed the gate to our home I turned and saw the sun rising in the hills behind me, tiers of hills, and homes now visible through the first rays of day. I couldn’t contain the awe within me as my breath came out a chilly fog.
The walk to the market place wasn’t a long one, but I won’t forget it. Everything magnified. Everything beautiful. What had been a dirty bustling market place the day before now was just another step on paradise to me. This was heaven on earth. The silence. The sunrise. And the destination in front of me: two little boys with new hope.
(** all creation shouts his glory**)
Steve was waiting for me on the corner with his bike, and in the midst of nothing managed to find a bota for me to ride. He joked with me and asked, “Can you ride a bike?” Can I ride a bike? Ha! I could ride across Africa, riding someone on the back! I answer him, “Yea, of course. It’s my favorite!” “I don’t think you’d want to ride my bike”, he said. “There are no brakes..” I laughed out loud and told him he was probably right.
*this is steve*
We rode to the end of the road and my heart suddenly moved into my throat, “What if the boys went back to the dump? What if they didn’t stay with Ibraham’s family last night like they were supposed to? I began praying for them again. Praying I wouldn’t see them there, praying especially for Jisef who was having a harder time. He was a little more apprehensive, seeing as Ibraham wasn’t his family, and no one had reached out to him in a while. He hadn’t known a family the way Rajab had.
We turned left and I held my breath as we rode closer to the dump. I scanned the piles of trash, the boys leaned against the wall for their t-shirts, for their faces. They were no where to be seen. I could breath again. Hope restored. We continued on, and I couldn’t help, but to praise my Papa in Heaven. Steve just smiled his huge smile and laughed at me. We made a right at the large intersection and the town began to disappear beside us. The blurred scenery turned to only trees, a blur of green and the sound of birds instead of buses. The Lord had found them a place out of reach.
( psalms- i will set you out of reach of your enemies..)
About 10 minutes later we turned right down a red clay road, and right again. There were huts in front of me arranged in a circle and the one closest to us began to rustle. I turned to pay the bota driver and when I turned around saw Rajab standing in the yard with Jisef coming out of the hut’s flap stretching and yawning. They got a full nights sleep! No potato sack. No waking up throughout the night. No getting at the crack of dawn to move locations. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I ran over to them to hug them. Tears of Joy from the goodness of a Father. A Father who loves us so much that if one sheep goes astray from the fold He goes to look for them.
There was such a Peace over this place, and I knew it was lined with guardian angels. Suddenly there was a rush of 5 other children coming over to meet me, and hug me. Some of the most beautiful faces I have ever seen. “Rachael! Rachael!” “Uni twa nani?” I asked in my broken swahili, trying to get their names. They burst into giggles of course, and led me over to the house to meet their parents.
As soon as Ibraham walked up I knew I could trust him. The peace over his home, the Joy in his children. I knew he was a good father. Steve had told me their family was Muslim, and while his father had taken 2 wives, he had chosen only one, and you could tell he adored her. Most of the believers we talked to would say the Muslims were stubborn, or proud, but there was none of that on this man. He invited me in and began to ask me questions, and thank me for the opportunity for these boys. I got to turn it back to the real provider. Jesus. I told him what God had spoken to me at the dump that first day meeting the boys, the certainty he had planted in my heart that these boys were who I was to be fighting for, and the doors He had opened. No way could I have done anything in 4 days, with little to no internet or phone access. But my Father in Heaven alined things in His perfect timing to show me it was Him and not me. To show me He is faithful. To show me he wants us to do things out of our control- so that we have to depend on him for it to be accomplished.
All feelings of apprehension and questions why Rajab hadn’t been here in the first place were put to ease as he assured me one more time ” the boys are welcome here, as long as they need to. Whatever they need we will try to help.” He asked for no assistance, although we had already planned on giving them aid for keeping the boys, and just to bless them. He was unaware of that, and still more than willing to help; even someone who wasn’t his family. I couldn’t imagine why Rajab wouldn’t have wanted to come here instead of the streets in the first place. He clearly trusted Ibraham, or he wouldn’t have told us about him. Just like the prodigal son he had access to a feast here and yet he chose to live among the pigs. It’s shame that keeps us away, guilt, fear we won’t be received, that we don’t deserve better. It’s the enemy. (**Prodigal son**)
After saying how happy he was for the boys again, and thankful for such an opportunity for them he asked me to remember his children later. “If there are any other opportunities like this, please remember them. I just want their best.” I told him I didn’t have any of the means right now, nothing set in place, but when I did they would be on my heart. All of his children were currently in the public school, but the system is not very good. His oldest daughter is flying through it with ease. She is so smart!
The next hour was spent getting to know his family, letting them use my camera to take pictures, and video; something they had never seen. ” I’m on T.V!” his oldest girl laughed. I wasn’t ready to go, but Steve had responsibilities at the church to attend to, and so we called for the boys to hurry up with getting ready so we could take pictures. They walked into the house looking like little boys just ready for Sunday school. We had bought them some new clothes to wear since the ones they had hadn’t been washed in who knows how long, and were full of holes. When we had bought them Sandals the day before, Jisef asked me, “Could I maybe have a t-shirt?” I seriously have felt like a full blown mama in these last 24 hours. Getting the boys enrolled for school, going through what supplies they would need, praying for them, and shopping for them. It has been exhausting and so rewarding. It’s made me appreciate my parents so much more. I’m an adult now, and should have already realized all the background things they have had to do. What we thought were the most basic of tasks that entailed so much more. These last several days with the boys have shown me new levels of Concern, Hope, Fear, and Love.
It’s like God wanted to show me how He feels watching over me. He wants the best for me. He is putting together all the little details. He is trying to bless me and smother me with His love. But He also has to wait and let me make the decisions. Even with His best intentions I can choose other things. And so He holds His breath, heart in His throat hoping I won’t have gone back to the dump. He wants to see me seize the highest He intended for me. Looking at the boys, and seeing their Hope gave me a new picture of how I must look to the Father when I realize He is looking out for me. When I am excited about a new opportunity he has provided, and a bright new future trusting Him.
Before we left I asked Ibraham if we could pray for his family.
“Father cover this family. May they see your mighty hand and provision in everything. May you be the one remembered in all of these blessings. Let them turn to you and not to people. Show them your love and your power through these boys. Soften their hearts to know you as Lord and Savior, to receive your truth. Thank you for them Papa. Thank you for this amazing family. Let all of this show your glory.Thank you Papa…..”
We took some final family photos, Rajab and all his cousins with Jisef, and Ibraham’s family. It’s only about 8:30 am at this point and we walk back out to the road in search of bota drivers. Sad this would be the only time I would see their family in a while we waved goodbye and set off for Sunday service.
We were made to Worship!
