Issued a pretty blue umbrella to protect my pale face from
the midday sun, the ladies and I left home and headed for a hidden village
path. A few months ago they told me the story of how God showed them this place
in a very specific way and instructed them to build relationships with these
forgotten people.
I tend to have a mental image of neighboring doors in an
apartment complex when I think of door-to-door evangelism, but in Marikebuni,
Kenya door-to-door means something entirely different. Long sandy paths
separate one group of structures from another. Covering perhaps four to five
kilometers we found about six families and their extensions. And we didn’t have
to knock as everyone was outside reclining in what shade they could find.
Offered a seat on a log or a rock at each homestead, these
ladies were obviously known and welcome. There would be no fly-bys today. One
family was excited to show us the machine they use to remove corn from the cob.
Another family pressed itself up against the wall for the half meter of shade
the structure offered. We prayed for these families before heading to the next
home, thankful their needs were few.
Then we came to the old man who said his wife prays for him
and that’s good enough. He showed me the Bible she uses before we explained
that Jesus died and rose again for him as an individual and that his wife’s
salvation didn’t assure his salvation. Okay, fine. He accepted Jesus and we
prayed. He promised to come to church on Sunday but we didn’t see him.
Sometimes it takes an outsider (me) to encourage people to move, but overcoming
the “kindness over truth” culture still needs some work.
Then we met a group of ladies preparing their beans for supper. Each one shelled while huddled against the wall of their goat pen to avoid the blazing sun. The maama of the group said that she doesn’t believe in Jesus, but she wanted us to pray blessings on her anyhow. I asked her who she wanted us to pray to for that blessing and she said Jesus. Ha! We tried to help her see the problem in her logic but this woman wasn’t budging. We prayed anyhow.
At the next house I found a boy who’d creatively made
animals from clay, which I’d never seen done before (and am now wondering why
given the composition of the earth all over this continent. The kids were
pounding the bean husks off the beans. The old woman told us about her grandson
who needed surgery (something to do with kidneys) and was refusing. We laid
hands on him and prayed and believe God for total healing.
Finally we passed by three babies sleeping in the shade. Two
children maybe two years and three years older than these were in the
house…thingy…cooking their scrawny lot of food. Maama was out working in the
garden and dad was home with feet so covered with open sores from jiggers that
he couldn’t even walk. The children were filthy but if mom stopped to haul water
the several kilometers it would take then the food wouldn’t be harvested. I can
honestly say the dad couldn’t possibly do anything to help his family anymore
with those sores. You see how easily a bad situation can get worse very
quickly. We prayed healing for the father so that the children can be clean and
healthy again.
Wow, this ministry approach took on a whole new meaning for
me. Thank you Jesus and please continue to pray for these families with us.