This trip was one that I will never forget, for many reasons. The best part of it was seeing how much the people there truly loved each other. Every single person there was willing to give so much of themselve to others.

One day, we were in the city (Nakuru) to get bottled water. We were sitting in the bus waiting for whoever had gone in to bring the water back, and a boy about my age came up to the window asking for food. I gave him a bag of mixed nuts that I had. We asked him where he lived, and he pointed to the store.

"You live in the store? we asked.

"No, between," he said. He lived in the alley between two buildings. After our brief conversation, he walked across the street. A little later, I turn around and watch him share the nuts with 4 other boys who were hungry. When I'm at school and I get a little hungry, I don't share my food. He did not know when he might get another chance to eat, and he was willing to share. It reminded me of in Luke 12, when Jesus says, "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes."

The day after the conference was over, we went to the center. Most of the kids had ridden away on buses the previous day, and only the boys who lived at the center were there. I spent the majority of the day playing cards with some of the boys.

I taught them a game where each player successively places a card face up in the middle quickly, and whenever two cards of the same value appear, the first person to slap the deck keeps it. Whoever is the last to have cards wins. They loved the game, but it never seemed to end. Each time one of them ran out of cards, another boy would take his deck, split it in two, and give half the boy without.

Another remarkable element of this trip was the way the Kenyans worshiped. They spent hours on end in a room together, swaying, clapping and dancing, singing songs to God. Everyone sang, and everyone moved. It was amazing to watch how much they enjoyed to dance for the Lord. Most of us on the team were asked how we danced in our church, and had trouble understanding when we explained that we stand still during worship.

During this trip, I hopefully shared with them about the love of Christ. I hoped I helped teach them how to have a personal, informal relationship with God. I don't know if I succeeded in teaching them any of this, but I know that they have taught me a lot about loving people the way God loves me, and truly living for others.

The Mama Helen's Story

Over the past month I heard of several people asking about my Kenya blog. This made me very glad that people were interested in what are doing over there. At the same time, it made me feel a little embarrassed because I had nothing posted that was deserving of what I witnessed and took part of in Kenya. I hope this can give you a rough sketch of what I saw on the trip.

At Mama Helen's Rehabilitation, there are over forty boys who have lived there no more than three years. Before that, they lived on the streets. Each of them has their own story, but there is a theme to their pasts that are similar. Most of them had one or both parents. Most of them had siblings and a house. All of them had these things taken from them.

Some of the boys lived in homes plagued by violence, disease, and addiction. Others lost their homes to aids. Whether by choice or for lack of alternative, all of the boys made their way to the streets.

On the streets, these boys faced trials and struggles. Most of them found that while they could not afford adequate food, they could afford furniture glue. They found if they dangled this glue from their lip, they could inhale the fumes and they would no longer feel their hunger. They became numbed and almost zombie-like.

A man, Pastor Jackson, saw these children and knew he had to reach them. He invited them to come to his church, and they came. He would take their glue bottles and throw them away. He offered them food and the word of God. He told them about a God who loved them more than they could imagine and wanted to know them personally.

Pastor Jackson continued to serve the boys in this way for some time. Eventually, he heard God tell him to take some further steps in serving the boys.

Pastor Jackson found Port City Community Church on the internet and emailed Mike Ashcraft, the pastor. Mike, suspecting an internet scam, deleted a number of Pastor Jackson's earlier emails. But Pastor Jackson felt that it was God's will for Port City to help him minister to the street children in Nakuru, so he kept emailing until he got a reply.

After two years of corresponding, Pastor Jackson flew to America and began the partnership that God has used to redeem the boys at Mama Helen's.

If you would like to read more of the story of Mama Helen's click here