May
10
Two days ago I witnessed firsthand the draining effects of poverty. I would take ages to paint a perfect picture of the Nairobi slums. I shall try. But let me tell you, there is no way to understand it unless you rest your own two feet on that earthy, dirty ground. First let me describe to you the atmosphere, with closed eyes this is what you’d experience. Smell. Have you ever smelled an age old outhouse? Yeah. Combine that with rotting food. Garbage. Think filthy. Then add more raw sewage. Sound. Car horns in the distant streets. Voices, big and small, resound in Swahili and tribal tongues. The soil is soft underneath the feet. Mud and goo may invade inside the shoes. The air is heavy with smells and sounds. Open your eyes to see garbage blanketing every space. People are everywhere. They line the streets with shacks of merchandise, begging for a buyer to spot them. The homes of these people are little more than a pile scrap tin, mud is used to concrete the pieces together. They are small homes, most of them not exceeding 10 x 10 feet. These shanties seem to be stuffed into every cranny. Some are held up only by the next standing shanty. In the ditches lining the streets there is much sewage. Human waste flows uncovered. There is no power. No running water. Again, people are milling around everywhere. Sorrow walks gripping their hands and hearts. There are tons of people. With closed eyes its more bearable. But to look into the eyes of these people, it is an action that is followed with much burden and sadness. If you could see them. If only. The hopelessness is securely anchored, bringing with it darkness as it finds its place of rest. Kids look starved. The locals have told me some of the most horrific survival stories of these children. Kids. Mere children. Girls sell themselves to men, the profit is another day of life. Boys fight and lie, steal and cheat to gain another meal. The injustice of it all explodes into everything like a bomb. Shattered lives are being lived, seemingly without thought of a better world, a life of hope. They just survive. This infiltrates my heart! How could God ever break the chains that have suffocated them for so long? It’s virtually impossible….without God. Do you think somehow the same God that has provided for us, day after day, can also provide for them? Did you know that every single Kenyan slum dweller has the amount of hairs upon their head recorded by the Father Himself? That single action alone tells me of their great worth to the Father. He cares. He wants to lead them to a place of pure Truth. Oh how He loves us! He is longing to take His awesome light of Hope and shine it loudly, evaporating the darkness of these people. But is it possible? Yes. My God is mighty to save. He can move mountains. Author of Salvation! What a grand thing my God will do….but He is asking us to take action. He is asking us to pray unceasingly. Lift up these people, commit to be burdened with the condition of their dying souls. Go. Be nothing less than everything He needs us to be. He is so able. The one who saves the day! He is asking us to be His incredible love. Be His love to the slum dwellers. Be His hands, His voice, His heart, His feet. Pray. Show them who it is that we serve. Savior, a hope giver.
isaiah 52….
7 How beautiful on the mountains
are the feet of those who bring good news,
who proclaim peace,
who bring good tidings,
who proclaim salvation,
who say to Zion,
“Your God reigns!”
8 Listen! Your watchmen lift up their voices;
together they shout for joy.
When the LORD returns to Zion,
they will see it with their own eyes.
9 Burst into songs of joy together,
you ruins of Jerusalem,
for the LORD has comforted his people,
he has redeemed Jerusalem.
10 The LORD will lay bare his holy arm
in the sight of all the nations,
and all the ends of the earth will see
the salvation of our God.