August, 2000

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When I wrote last month, I was leaving on a short trip to visit our 'Girls Shelter' in Loitokitok (LTK), a small village at the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Two years ago, my Deputation team had the opportunity to visit this same shelter; however, at the time it was just a vision--there were no children there. God has moved this project to the point that we now have 52 girls at the shelter--all with the opportunity to be educated, eat and live in a safe, quiet, loving environment. This is quite a contrast to the lives that these girls suffered in Nairobi, most coming from broken, abusive homes or life on the streets.

One my best memories of LTK was waking up each morning to the majestic presence of the Lord displayed in Mt. Kilimanjaro. No picture can do justice to the mountain, which exudes power--all I could do is gasp and lift my hands up to the sky (almost as if a force was driving my hands toward the sky), knowing that the Creator could not be held within its boundaries--thus mystified by His dwelling in my measly body. It was awesome to see some girls that I hadn't seen for two years and witness the way that God has transformed their lives to the point that I gazed at them in amazement.

One 15-year-old, Faith, was new to our program two years ago (when I was a volunteer). As an orphan, she suffered from emotional and financial distress, unable to provide for herself and her siblings. One of her major undertakings was to care for her three-year-old brother, Daudi (who now lives in our boys shelter). She is now number one in her class and has an exuberant spirit--when we saw each other, neither of us could stop grinning. I still chuckle, in awe of the way that God has allowed me to re-enter these children's lives...allowing me to see the fruit that comes from love. I love my job... you may hear that a few times as this narration continues.

However, as much as I absolutely love what I'm doing here, my job continues to challenge me in more ways than one. From an administrative perspective, I have stumbled through figuring out the system here. Not only knowing who is who (we have 162 kids that I need/want to know personally) but understanding how sponsorship is currently run and thus figuring out a way to make it more efficient (Westerners always want to make things more efficient--and I'm on the extreme end of that).

I also had the task of figuring out which kids weren't sponsored. Much to everyone's surprise, it turned out that 45 kids aren't sponsored. Fortunately many of you from Seattle, have committed to sponsoring a child--and you will receive your "welcome packet" in the mail this week. It's been a privilege to match kids up with their sponsors and even more of a privilege to tell the children who their sponsor is. Yesterday, I was able to tell a 15-year-old girl, Ann, that she has a sponsor. Ann has been praying for a sponsor for more than a year and her eyes teared as she thanked me--me?? It's not me, it's you guys... thank you for bringing immense joy and hope to my kids.

The hope that these children exude often has roots in memories of extreme pain. Case in point: yesterday I was interviewing a 13-year-old girl, Amelia (not her real name) in order to write up a case history for her sponsor-to-be. She came to our program about three months ago from a family of six children. Her father died when she was young and her mother has struggled to feed her children ever since.

As Amelia narrated her story to me, I could tell that it was painful for her to remember her childhood. Although she was never physically or verbally beaten, she experienced a pain that most of us have never and will never face. Hunger. She told me about how she was forced to beg for food in her village each day--often times coming home with nothing. I asked her if she missed home (she now lives in our girls shelter)--Her large brown eyes darted around my blue eyes--and suddenly a big tear fell into her lap and she doubled over and pulled her sweater up to her eyes, afraid to show the other kids who milled around.

As I held her in my arms, my mind spun, wondering if she missed her family, if something was going on at the girls shelter that I didn't know about, a million ideas raced through my mind as she sobbed. Finally, after several attempts to talk, she got out the words, "I just remember going to sleep in my house without eating." My eyes filled with tears because her pain was so deep... she continued "Now I don't have to worry about food--I always get something to eat." I asked her if there was anything she needed, "a good lamp that doesn't smoke and some books so that I can study for my exam (after 8th grade, every child has to take a standard test to go onto high school)." "I think I can do that," I replied. As I prayed with her--I was humbled... something I am getting accustomed to. Her soft voice murmured, "Thank you."

Every day is full of stories. Every day God teaches me something else that humbles me. Whether it be at the office, at home, working with the Deputation team (who sadly left two weeks ago), in the grocery store, with the kids at Woodley school, you name it, God has me in the fire. Almost literally. First, as you all know, Kenya is in a severe drought that continues to worsen. It has rained only once in the past month. The lack of rain water also means power and water rationing.

Fortunately this hadn't affected me much because my current apartment is right next to the Capitol building, therefore, there is no rationing. However, last weekend the water was rationed... and there continued to be no water until Wednesday. Since there were four girls from our program staying with me, in addition to Andrea (a lone Deputee), it was a bit harder to live without water than I expected. I can handle not taking a shower, but when there are four teenage girls not taking a shower...the place begins to smell unbearable. The girls who were staying here were on break from their boarding schools and either were orphaned or had terrible living situations... so I gladly took them in. They exhausted me though. As much as I love them, I never want to have four teenage girls!

In light of my exhaustion, I finally got to sleep before 11pm last Tuesday night--however an hour later, I was shaken by Andrea who was yelling, "Sarah, there's a fire." My sleep deprivation spoke as I moaned, told her to be quiet and rolled over. "Sarah, get up!!!" BAM, I jumped out of bed and ran to the window... only to see a huge orange light about 20 feet high--about 15 feet from my window. Right behind my apartment are some kiosks (small mom and pop stores that sell just about everything from vegetables to medicines). I woke all the girls and we ran outside--people were screaming and, without water, the franticness of the situation increased.

The fire had engulfed the place by then, and all that separated us from the fire were a wood fence and some bushes. Andrea and I ran in and grabbed our passports and some money--just in case (we were thinking of our moms) and sat on the curb, helpless, feeling awful for the families that lived in these places, wondering if they made it out alive. All summer, the deputees and I trekked back to this kiosk every evening to get avocados, mangoes, potatoes, green peppers, bread, eggs... it was our local grocery store. And the people who owned it were so nice and a little amused by our funny nature--and naivete of prices (everything in Kenya is negotiable).

Seeing houses burn has always made me nauseous... growing up in Oak Harbor, I can vividly remember homes in my neighborhood that burned and the feeling that resulted. Now, this time, the feeling was more intense because these people had nothing in American terms, yet they were able to provide for themselves. However, as we learned the next morning, everything had been destroyed except for the people. Thank you, Lord. But they were without clothing, food, shelter... etc. The verse, "Love your neighbor as yourself" continued to ring in my ears. Although everybody is "your neighbor," these were really our neighbors and they were suffering. Andrea and I got together some clothes (unfortunately we didn't have little kid clothes), food and some stuffed animals and invited the family over the next morning. As they entered, with sorrow in their eyes, the smell of smoke filled the living room. They took the things with enormous thanksgiving, but deep down I knew it wasn't enough. They had nowhere to sleep.

I prayed that day and read through the Bible, and God spoke to me. Through this passage, God taught me a bit about loving my neighbors, "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and see his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words on tongue but with actions and in truth." 1 John 3:16-18. So--knowing that I have material possessions and that through your financial support, I had extra money this month, in the name of Jesus, I was able to give them enough money to build a new home/business. I never knew how humbling it would be to give to someone who has nothing... it is something I am still processing... but God is good and the sound of hammers continues to resonate in the distance. Their home is almost done, and they are thankful... and relying on God for the next step, knowing that He will provide capital for their restaurant. SO, although you may not have been aware, you gave to a family in Kenya who had nothing... we are definitely blessed--to be a blessing!

I could go on and on with more and more stories, but this email is already too long (many of you probably didn't even make it this far :-). You will be able to hear more stories in person when I come home for Christmas--if you desire. I want to encourage you to keep praying for the ministry, the people of Kenya and me--because God is answering your prayers. Here are some specific requests:

  For the children that are in our program...that their lives would continue to be transformed and that I would be able to love them with the love of Jesus.

  For patient endurance and energy as I am tired, emotionally drained. Also for patient endurance as I miss my family and my boyfriend, Mark--SO MUCH!!

  For the finances that our organization needs to continue maintaining and expanding our ministry.

  For rain--enough said.

  For my transition as I move into Marta Bennett's (UPC Missionary) Apt. this week.

  For a fabulous time with some of my best friends, Cassie and Mike as they visit in September.

  That I would make good friends in Kenya.

  For continued HEALTH!

Thank you for your patience and willingness to read my long updates and for your prayers and frequent encouragement (via email or letters). Write again soon... PLEASE!

With joy and laughter in Kenya,

Sarah Jamieson
Child Sponsorship Coordinator,
Homeless Children International-Kenya

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