This is my third year in a row to come to Kenya.
And while I know I will see poverty at every turn, it’s the suffering I’ll never get used to. Our girls at Mercy House have been rescued and redeemed, but we don’t ever want them to grow so comfortable with life, they forget the smell of the city and the pain of humanity outside our walls.
If you ever travel here, you will see suffering at every turn.
We traveled across the city to a home for disabled children to serve our community. These children are the castaways of society. Maureen admonished us to love these children well, not to let our fear of the unknown or fact that they are different stop us from serving.
But God sees them.
I’m not going to lie: it was hard. My eyes burned, my senses overwhelmed, my throat closed. I pushed away my fear and tried to be the hands of Jesus. I was so proud of my American and Kenyan family. They didn’t flinch when the air was filled with loud screams or a child drooled. They accepted without questions, they hugged and served and taught me so much.
My oldest pulled out her flute and held a mini-concert. The children rocked, the staff clapped. It was a first for many.
We praised the hard working staff. They do things to serve these children than I cannot even begin to describe. They received our feeble words of encouragement and soaked in our visit, begging us to come again.
We brought a van full of food and supplies. Your faithful support of Mercy House made this Community Service possible. Thank you for giving.