Through Orange Colored Glasses

How much should you pay the guy who picks you up in the desert?

Well, my trip to Turkana started out with one of those “small world” deals. Barbie and I taught at Puget Sound Christian College for a couple of decades. Gene Morden graduated in 1993, and we had kind of lost track of him. It turned out that he is living in Turkana doing mission work and drilling water wells. I told Francis Bii, our relief director for the Horn of Africa, to try to find him and see if we could partner in some way. Francis had made three trips to see him, but he simply couldn’t find him. As I entered the airplane to go to Turkana, I heard a “Hi, Milton!” Yes, I sat beside Gene on the flight. Gene has served Turkana for 17 years giving the people water and the gospel. I asked him for advice. He said that the best thing that we can do to change Africa is to educate the children and give them water that will lead to farms. That made me feel pretty good since it was exactly what we were doing.

Our first destination in Turkana was where we had previously drilled a well. If you are a follower of my blog—read the one about “Children Under a Tree.” When I last left this spot, we had drilled a well and saw a couple of hundred children under a tree. Now there is a school there for those children who had been dumped. But I’m glad we showed up because they had run out of food. How would you like to be Rebecca, our teacher there, who is teaching 130 children in one room (obviously it didn’t get built big enough) who haven’t been eating? Can you imagine? But some students at West Texas A & M had given about 200 goats to the region, so the children are living off the goat’s milk. We hope to get them food soon. We were also given land by the chief, and it is fenced off now with a farm started. No food yet, but as we irrigate it—crops will come. A church meets there now in the school building. But the most amazing thing is that there is a town here now. When I left it in February, I couldn’t see a single house. Now there are little huts all over the place. We still need food coming there more regularly until the farm produces. But what a great change has taken place there.

When we left the place, our truck broke down. We were in a remote place in the desert, and we were stuck. A motorcycle came by, and Markson hopped on it and rode all the way into Lodwar. He came back much later with oil. That didn’t fix things, and the motorcycle had left. We decided to hike to a location that someone might recognize. Francis and Markson called people from the desert trying to find someone who had a vehicle who could come and get us. Why can’t Americans get cell phones that work like they do in Africa? We were calling from one of the most remote places on earth and getting coverage. I can’t even get consistent coverage driving down I40 in Amarillo. As we were walking, I was thinking thoughts about why I didn’t bring hardly any water. I pondered why in the world I was taking doxycycline that causes you to sunburn. I was wondering why there were camels out here. And I was amazed at how I perfectly remembered the theme song to “Lawrence of Arabia.” A Turkana elder stopped and asked us if we wanted some tea. I guess he was like the Good Samaritan. But what I wanted was some cold water.

Amazingly someone found us and picked us up. How much do you pay someone who picks you up in the desert? You know the answer to that one, don’t you?

What a gift! I can’t remember receiving something nicer. I will always cherish it and remember where it came from.

It seemed like the whole thing was a big mistake. I was a little upset about it and quite a bit embarrassed too. On a previous trip to Kenya, I met a man named Lawrence. He asked me if we could start a child sponsorship program through CRF at his locale. He had a lot of poverty and orphans at his place. At the time, I had too many children to sponsor in our other works near Kisumu—so I told him that maybe we could do it at some time in the future. Well, the time came when I thought that we could add some children in that area, and I told Barbie to contact our workers at Kisumu to do the due diligence needed to start the new program. James Were was very excited about this new work because it was being developed on property that he had donated in Miguena. In fact, it was at his old house. So we got our newest work going. After we got it started and I had already sponsored children there, I realized that the Lawrence whom they had been talking to and was now leading our newest program was a different Lawrence than the one I had communicated with previously.

I went to our newest program not knowing exactly what to expect. What I found were some of the sweetest children I have ever met. And they were poor—so poor. And they were orphans. Some of them had been orphaned so recently that their parents had yet to be buried. The ones taking care of the children with Lawrence were all widows. Some had been widowed because of AIDS and now were being given a chance not only to survive themselves but also to have a purpose. This was truly a James 1:27 kind of place. And Lawrence was one of the best storytellers I’ve ever heard. He would call child after child before us and tell of their sad tale that led to their becoming an orphan. Our team was full of tears. And I saw how God had moved in the strangest way to get us to this place.

The orphans there presented a little program to us. And at the end of their singing and sharing, Lawrence presented me a gift. It was incredible. The hand carved plaque was made of beautiful wood and stained and painted in exquisite fashion. On one side was a map of Kenya. On the other side was a map of Africa. On both sides it said “Christian Relief Fund.” And at the central point was the word “Hope.” This was no ordinary gift. They had spent a considerable amount of money. When they were questioned about why they didn’t spend the money on food, Lawrence said, “Didn’t you read the story of the woman with the alabaster jar? She wanted to give her best.” I didn’t really need this gift. In fact they had given a great gift to someone who didn’t need it. But even though I didn’t need it, I have never been more thankful for a gift. I think I realized what God feels. He doesn’t need our gifts, but when we give Him gifts—He is so thankful and pleased.

I experienced another similar event today. As I was worshiping with my brothers and sisters at the Kipkaren church in Eldoret, Francis Bii pointed to the bottle of wine that they were going to use in communion. Francis smiled his big smile and told me of the story of the wine. There was a free trip that was going to be given last year for someone from Eldoret to be able to go to Israel. Francis was selected. When he went to Cana of Galilee, he acquired a special bottle of wine that was considered to be holy since it was the site of where Jesus turned water into wine. Francis was not aware that he could not take the wine and was stopped at customs because of it. For some reason, Francis got to keep it. What a valuable possession this bottle of wine was! It simply could not be bought or acquired. Yet Francis had a bottle of it. And he opened and shared it with all of us from America to celebrate the Lord’s Supper. It was another gift of the best.

Francis always teaches the church that there is always someone needier than you. At the Kipkaren church they take up their regular contribution and then they have another basket where they give money to help widows. I think this is very biblical but seldom practiced. I understand giving to the poor. But what I have learned is that those of us who are rich still need to receive. It is very humbling and yet extremely gracious when the poor give to the rich. It makes me thankful. Will I give more? Will I bless them in return? I’m sure I will, but that is not the point I’m making here. I think that along the way of my wealthy life, I have forgotten my own neediness. And it is only through the gift of one who has to really sacrifice to give that I discover my own poverty of spirit. And thus I am blessed.

(The picture doesn’t have to do anything with the blog. It is Francis’ youngest son. I simply love this kid and this picture).

There’s nothing like 500 orphans singing “Happy Birthday” to you. Yes, the Ring Road Orphan’s Day School had a surprise birthday party for me. They called me to stand in the school ground by the flagpole supporting the Kenyan flag. Then their goal was to sing it so loudly that it could be heard in the next city. I think they succeeded.

When the singing was over, an unbelievably popular event happened. They had rented a huge sound system and started playing music. The children danced. I have never seen them so happy. The first song was about following the leader. So they formed a long train and danced all over the school ground. Then the music just kept playing and playing. Maurine Otieno grabbed my hands and said, “It is your birthday. You must be happy and dance.” I’m not really a dancing kind of guy, but how could you refuse this little girl? And if I’m not a dancing kind of guy, I’m really not knowledgeable in the Luo tribal form of dancing. But Maurine had a plan. She led me over to a huge crowd of children jumping up and down. Then she told me that Smurf was waiting to dance with me. Smurf is my sponsored child. Barbie fell in love with her at first sight when Smurf couldn’t quit crying around us. She had never seen a white person before. So for about a decade we have sponsored Smurf. I guess she is our daughter. And here she waited. All I could think of was a scene in a wedding back home where the dad gives the bride the first dance. Smurf’s parents had died when she was an infant. Perhaps I was the only father figure she had in her life. So we danced as hundreds of other kids surrounded us. It was my birthday, but maybe it was even more special for Smurf.

Then we had ice cream. A huge truck had entered the slum. And there was one of those big soft ice cream machines like you would see at Dairy Queen on it. They made ice cream cones for every one of the children. They had never eaten ice cream before. Can you imagine watching hundreds of little orphans eat ice cream for the first time? And if that wasn’t enough, the truck also had a big popcorn popper like at the movies. They even had the little sacks to put the popcorn in. And all the children got popcorn. And to cap off the celebration, the children were to be given brand new school uniforms. It was quite a celebration!

And to make matters more incredible. My good friends and CRF leaders, Francis Bii and Emmanuel Nmunyu, showed up. I figured Francis would be there. But Emmanuel was a surprise to nearly all of us. He doesn’t have a car, but got someone to drive him. We were going down one of the so-called roads in Nyalenda slum when a car stopped in front of us and would not let us around him. We were thinking how rude the people in the car were. And then Emmanuel jumped out and ran to us. I could only cry.

Children had drawn pictures for me and given me little cards. How could it have been more special? I thank my friends who came on this mission trip. I don’t know who else could have paid for this event. A group of children gathered around me and asked if my birthday could be an annual holiday so they could party like this every year. It’s okay with me.

And by the way, 53 of them were baptized too! I guess we share birthdays.

If there was ever a person I was destined to meet, it was Jared Odhiambo. Some years ago, I gave my life to helping AIDS orphans in Africa. When I made this commitment, I didn’t know how to do it. In fact, I didn’t even know any AIDS orphans. As a result I started sending emails and searching the internet to find someone who could help me. A person at our church in Seattle told me about a missionary in Kenya whom she had been helping. She said that she thought he had a Kenyan in his ministry who might be able to help. She didn’t know his name. Then I asked another friend if he knew somebody who could help. He told me that he had met a young African who was visiting Abilene Christian University. This young man was Kenyan and wanted to help AIDS orphans in a slum in Kisumu. Somehow I didn’t get all the information about him, but he sounded like the kind of person I wanted to meet. Then another friend told me that he had heard of a young man named Jared Odhiambo who had a vision of doing something big to help orphans. I got the information and emailed him. It turned out that all three of the people that I was searching for were really only one. Every person that I asked was leading me to the same person—Jared Odhiambo.

Rick Atchley was supposed to go to Kenya to preach to a group of missionaries about the time of my search. A conflict happened, and Rick asked me if I could take his place. I did, but as soon as I finished preaching, I asked if someone could get me to Kisumu. I wanted to find and meet Jared. Dan Bell took me to show me what was happening in the Nyalenda slum in Kisumu. And I met Jared Odhiambo face to face. It seemed within seconds that we knew that we were supposed to be in each other’s lives.

The story was that Jared was walking through the slum with his two friends, Thomas and James, when they encountered a little boy who was being beat up by some other older children. Jared stopped the fight and asked why they were hurting this young child. The bullies told Jared that the child had stolen some money from them. It turned out to be true, but it was only a tiny bit of money. Jared paid the money back that had been stolen. When he asked the boy why he had stolen the money, he said that he didn’t have any food. He was hungry. Jared had his heart broken. He took the boy back to church and had a picnic. He started sharing his food not only with this child but others. And a dream was born. He wanted to help feed, educate, house and tell the thousands of AIDS orphans in the slum about Jesus. He just needed a partner with some resources and a few open doors.

When I heard Jared’s story, I knew Jared’s dream was my dream. At first others didn’t want us to go for it. Doors were closed. Whether it was with the government or at church—we were discouraged from sponsoring and educating all of these children. And at the same time as others were trying to limit what we could do, children were being dumped on Jared’s doorstep. Jared already had some things going with a small school in the slum, but this was not enough for his dream. Thousands needed to be influenced through this ministry.

God led me to the right man. Jared is a man of vision. Jared is a man of integrity. Jared is a man like Christ. Today if you go to the place of his vision, there is a large school called the Ring Road Orphan’s Day School. Thousands have been educated there. They are producing some of the best students in Kenya. The government tried to shut it down. They don’t now. It is just too good of a school. His friend, Thomas, had another incredible dream of providing resources to help with the disease for the hundreds of thousands of neglected people in the disease filled slum. He partnered with Jared and me too. And now there is medical help on the same campus as the school not only for AIDS but all kinds of diseases. And of course, there is a vibrant church in the middle of it all.

Certainly, I honor Jared. He is my partner. He is my friend. He is my hero. Today is my birthday. I can’t think of a better present than the business leaders here in Kisumu, who at one time couldn’t comprehend his dream, honoring him and recognizing his accomplishments. In fact, they will install him as the president of the Rotary Club here today. The theme of Rotary Club is “Service Above Self.” Could anyone represent this goal better than Jared? Be honored Jared. No one deserves it more.

Haggai. It’s one of those books in the Bible that is seldom read. Maybe we should read it more. This minor prophet reminds God’s people that all the silver and gold belongs to Him not them. It’s a pretty good message. We so often think that all of the money that we have really belongs to us. No, it belongs to God. He lets us use it. And when I walk on the streets of Africa among the orphans, I often wonder if I am using His money like He wants it used. It seems that I am always convicted that He wants His money spent more on the poor and needy than upon all the stuff I buy for myself when I really already have what I need.

But these days when I hear about “Haggai,” I usually think of my friend. Haggai Khadiri is our accountant at CRF in Kisumu. He tries his best to make sure we spend our money in a way that helps us remember that it is truly God’s money. Haggai is the eighth child born into his family—but the first boy. Yes, he had seven older sisters. Haggai is now on the last year of his law degree. He is specializing in women and children’s rights. I could write for hours on how that is being neglected in this area. But what moves me most about Haggai is what he has done at Oasis of Hope.

Music moves Africa. There is nothing else quite like it that shapes the mood and spirit of this continent, and if you want to hear the best music that you will probably ever hear—it will be at Oasis of Hope. The children here can sing! Oasis of Hope is a high school in Kisumu helping orphaned and neglected children in the name of Christ. And it is Haggai’s passion.

If I evaluated our situation here, I would conclude that our biggest problem is our success. We have saved so many children in the slums who would have otherwise died. And we have educated them well. In fact, they are so smart that they are getting accepted into great secondary schools. And we didn’t have a good plan for the success of raising so many orphans to have incredible minds and who would desire further education. In Kenya, they say that school is free—you just have to pay school fees. And we simply can’t afford school fees for all of our children. In most cases we have our own primary schools and the sponsorship fees from CRF pay for the bulk of the children’s education. But when they get older, we don’t have secondary schools, and the cost of education is more than we can afford. It seems like one of the best answers is to have our own secondary schools that are more affordable and in line with what we can manage to pay for our children.

Obviously, we will have to build some schools to do this. But another idea came from Haggai. He has offered to let us buy part of his school. We would be partial owners. He would guarantee that all of our CRF children got into school, and he would reduce the tuition for all of our CRF children. This seems like such a good way to start solving some of our educational problems.

Would you start praying with me about Oasis of Hope? I like the name, don’t you? It seems to fit us. We don’t have the money yet to become an owner of Oasis of Hope. But money isn’t our biggest problem, is it? Didn’t Haggai tell us that it all belongs to God anyway (the Haggai in the Bible)? I think finding a good man like Haggai is harder to find than money. If I could get you praying about anything right now, it would be to help us finish the course in the training of these thousands of orphans over here. So many good things have happened. But our children are growing up. We are not ready to stop the training. They need a few more years in their education. I want these kids to grow up being like Haggai who is changing the social and spiritual structure of a slum out a love for the Lord.

There is no other way to describe the Ring Road Orphan’s Day School except for a light in the darkness. When you walk through the dreariness of the Nyalenda slum in Kisumu, there is a sense of poverty, disease, and filthiness that is reflected in the lack of color. In other words, the slum is dirt colored and rather dark. But as you wind your way through the maze of paths that some would call roads, you finally arrive at the Ring Road complex. The most striking aspect about it is the bright turquoise color that absolutely sets itself off from the rest of the slum. And the color is simply symbolic that this place is truly a light in the darkness.

Outsiders have not always seen the Ring Road school as a bright place. In fact, it is hard to believe that it has survived. I can remember when the school building was not even there. I can recall getting on my knees and praying over this piece of land with Jared Odhiambo and Shawn Tyler as we hoped that there would someday be a school building here. And then it was built. It appeared that our dreams had come true. But the government didn’t share our vision. The stigma of AIDS orphans overpowered the objective reality of what they could actually do. Our kids were called “stupid.” The powers that be tried to shut us down. There was always one more hoop to jump through to keep the doors open. We were told our building wasn’t good enough. So floors were changed. We were told our building wasn’t secure enough. So a fence was added. We were told our school was unsanitary. So new latrines emerged. But the ultimate argument was always that our children were not smart enough.

In order to shut down the school, the government was going to prove their point by making our children take a standardized achievement test. This would finally give the measurable proof of our children’s lack of knowledge. Or so they thought. When all was said and done, they didn’t know about Elvis. Elvis in the world of Ring Road is as legendary to us as the Elvis of Graceland. Yes, Elvis scored the highest score in the country. And he saved the school. The very people who tried to shut down our school had to accredit it because it was now a fact—our children were smart. They only had to be given a chance.

But was the Elvis story some kind of a fluke or a once in a lifetime tale? No, our children just keep getting smarter. Mick Davis, who helps with the training and encouragement of children at Ring Road, explained to me that students there are now testing in the top 1% of the entire country. And can you imagine what they could do if they had a library or a lab? What could they do if they had all the same things that other students take for granted in their education? I can’t even imagine what the students would accomplish if they had better resources. How do they do it? It is the gratitude that they have for being given a chance. It is the esteem that they have because they know that some sponsor out there believes in them.

And when you look at things today, it keeps getting better and better. For instance, there is Oscar. He seemed to have so many strikes against him. His only option for education was a school designed for AIDS orphans. His life was a history of abuse, and he had the burns to prove it. But you would never know of his pain. He wears the biggest smile at Ring Road. And his bright countenance is even overshadowed by his bright mind. Our students just took the preliminary part of the national achievement test again. To say that Oscar did well is an understatement. Oscar scored twenty points higher than the highest score ever recorded. One could say that Oscar is the smartest child in the country. You would never know it when you walked around Ring Road. His beautiful smile and spirit simply blend into the glory of the atmosphere reflected between the turquoise buildings. Oscar’s story is a story of resilience. It shows what God can do with a child who is given a chance. The possibilities can’t be measured.

In a new book called Africa: Altered States, Ordinary Miracles, we encounter a very good question—“How can a continent so fluent in famine, genocide and torture so consistently serve up irrepressible optimism and undying hope?”

Today is a big day for me. It is one of those pivotal days when things are going to change. It is one of those days when you want to yell out—“Finally!” Today I hope to see the culmination of a lot of things I’ve been dreaming about for a long time. Or maybe I should say that today is the beginning of a new era.

If you have heard me speak in the last decade, you have probably heard about the commitment that I made some years ago at a Promise Keepers clergy conference. Bruce Wilkinson had just returned from Swaziland and was telling us about the AIDS pandemic there. It was the most powerful sermon that I remember. At the end of his sermon, he had an invitation. The response called for two things. First of all, you had to go to Africa and see first hand the problem. Secondly, you had to devote yourself to helping solve the problem. I responded to the sermon and have tried my best to be serious about my commitment.

Initially my work has been to help with AIDS orphans. That’s why I wear orange. It is the color of hope for AIDS orphans in Sub-Saharan Africa. Through a partnership with Christian Relief Fund and so many helpful people around the world, we have seen thousands of AIDS orphans fed, educated, housed, clothed, and spiritually trained. Although this has been so good, the dream was always to take it a step further. We wanted to do something that dealt with the disease.

The first part of the vision was to start a counseling center that would not only teach people about the prevention of AIDS but would also help people who were HIV positive through every step of their disease whether it was psychological help from the stigma attached to AIDS or the eventual death that could come from it. It became the dream of Kotieno Thomas who lived in the Nyalenda slum in Kisumu to facilitate this center. We started doing everything we could to get Thomas educated and trained to be the leader of such a work. It is called the VCT (Voluntary Counseling and Testing Center) and is accredited by the government in Kenya for excellence in helping with HIV/AIDS.

The Nyalenda slum was the perfect place for this ministry. It had one of the highest prevalences of AIDS in the world. But we quickly realized dealing with AIDS was not enough. This particular slum was the most diseased place on earth. And there was no health care for hundreds of thousands of people living there who were not only suffering from HIV but also malaria, cholera, typhoid, tuberculosis, and other diseases. So instead of just starting a VCT, we built a full-blown clinic that also had a pharmacy. It was a big dream. It was seemingly an impossible dream. Those of us who were connected to it didn’t really know what we were doing. But the progress of this health facility and ministry just kept moving. In retrospect, we saw that we were able to do things that no one had previously been able to do. Part of the reason is that because of our lack of knowledge on how to properly get it done, we unknowingly went around rather than jump through the governmental hoops that had stopped others before us.
It was nearly time to open the place, but we were short the necessary funding to complete it. It was the time in my life when I was leaving my ministry in Seattle of 30 years to move back to Texas. Julie Rawlins had an idea for the church there to give the remaining money needed to open the clinic and VCT as a going away present from the church—and they did. She even had them name it the Jones clinic as a part of my going away present. However, they didn’t tell me that it was really going to open. I had assumed there would be more and more hoops to jump through that would complicate things. But to my surprise, it opened. And they kept it a secret until I arrived in Kisumu and actually got to see it.

But even as great as the clinic was, it still didn’t do the biggest deal. During the process of the development of the clinic, we also saw the development of ARVs (antiretrovirals). With this medical breakthrough, it meant that people who were HIV positive could take these drugs and not get AIDS. This is what happened with Magic Johnson. We simply had to get this technology and advancement for our people in the slum. But as you know, it is hard to get cutting edge help for poor people. But we kept trying.

To do this treatment, you need a CD4 count machine. It helps you to analyze the blood in order to know what kind of medicine will work. Incredibly, one was donated to us. But it broke. And then the laws changed, and we had to have a doctor, nurse, technician, and pharmacist who would all specialize in this treatment. Again we couldn’t afford it. It looked like we were going backwards. But good stories have chapters, and we were not reading the last one.

Today we receive a new CD4 count machine. And today we start hiring three new people to work this new treatment with ARVs. And another person is moving here to help. We had the ability in the past to refer people other places, but most of the time those other places didn’t exist or the people were so tied to the slum that they would never leave it to get help. Now there will be the best help right there in the slum at the clinic. So many have been faithful and gracious to help. I thank those with the initial dreams. I thank those who got the place open. I now thank those who have completed it with the new technology and resources. Obviously, there are more needs now and will be in the future, but I feel like today is another milestone. I can’t tell you how many thousands of lives now can be saved.

When I first went to this slum, I thought that nearly everyone would be dead of AIDS in a few years. But that is not the case. Can you imagine the hope it will produce in people now who after being diagnosed with HIV are told that there is medicine available to keep them from getting AIDS? How would you feel?

Yes, I think today is going to be a new day. I’m writing this at 3 a.m. because of jet lag. But waking up in the middle of the night to anticipate good things is a good way to get up.

I always feel like I’m going home when I go to Kenya. Well, I’m on my way again. I’ll try to send you a few stories on my blog whenever I have Internet ability.

I also want to thank all of you have helped me by supporting thousands of orphans, drilling wells, feeding the hungry, and starting clinics there. So many good things have been done. There’s so much more that needs to be done. But I now have hope!

Prayers from you would greatly be appreciated. I’m taking about a dozen people with me to show them how God is moving there. However, at one point in time, Francis Bii and I will be going to a pretty dangerous place. Please pray that God grants us safety.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for praying. As Emmanuel always says, “Thank you a trillion times!”

In response to my recent blog, “Zero Child”, Jason Beagle has written to further inform us on the immense trials of such an abandoned child. Jason helps us understand that this is not only a problem in Haiti but also extends to Africa where Jason and Amy lead an incredible work of compassion partnering with CRF in Kitale, Kenya for the very children that I wrote about. You will be moved and motivated when you learn more about this devastating problem from Jason. (If you are unfamiliar with the term “Zero Child,” please read my earlier blog).

Dear Milt-
I just wanted to say thanks for your post on the Zero child. Zero children can be found in families large or small depending on their circumstances but the results are always tragic. The subjugation and humiliation of the child by those to whom he or she should be closest creates an ambivalence within the child that they don’t know how to process. The guilt felt by those perpetuating the abuse may be suppressed by further humiliating the child to the point of treating them like a second class person or even an animal in an effort to disassociate the treatment of the person as such. They are not a person, they are a thing. The effect upon the zero child is disastrous not only in terms of their physical and psychological health, but perhaps more importantly because of the effect upon their spiritual development. So much of how we view the world and understand God is formed by our experience and the relationships we have. Arguably in third world and developing countries, experiences and relationships may be the primary way people form their worldview since illiteracy is high and access to media is limited. And just what are the psychological effects of being a zero child? Inability to trust, fear of people, low self-esteem or self-hatred, inability to form close relationships of their own later in life are perhaps just a few. The impact is not only felt by the zero child but also by those witnessing the treatment. How can they not wonder, “Am I next?” Just how is it possible for such a person to understand that they have a loving Father God who cares for them and has good plans for them and their life?

As you know, society here in Africa is very communal and much of how people treat each other is governed by that understanding. However, the impact of Western thought with its individualism and post-modernism is definitely increasing especially in urban centers. More and more people look to their own dreams and plans rather than considering the greater good or their responsibility to the community. The impact of that philosophy coupled with the scourge of AIDS upon families is evident as we see many more single mothers and abandoned children. Fathers, even within the church, are becoming a rarity. Extended families are less likely to accept the burden of extra children due to the death of a sister or brother. Children may be orphaned due to disease and then abandoned by their relatives. What happens to these children? They become another class of Zero children. They are twice abandoned- once by their father or mother and once by their relatives. These children become wards of the state and yet the state is unwilling to care for them. They are ultimately assigned to charitable children institutions. They are the children that nobody wanted. And we care for 54 of them.

We care for them and we care about them. Their needs however, go far beyond the physical, and perhaps in recognition of that, the government standards for charitable children institutions here in Kenya are quite high. The high standards are a bit ironic given the fact that the state is unwilling to contribute any resources to their welfare, but it is nonetheless the case. The challenge we have as a children’s home is that we either must meet those standards or be forced to close down. Unfortunately the more we understand about the needs of the children, their histories, and the government regulations, the more problems we are discovering. These challenges include providing minimum wage, vacation time, and government deductions for our staff. We must also employ a social worker full-time and provide counseling for the children, which is understandably sorely needed. We must provide annual medical exams for each child and treat any conditions that he or she has throughout the year. Somehow in the midst of all the challenges and limitations we are trying to show the love of the Father, hoping and praying that the message of love will get through the blockades the enemy has built up.

Jason and Amy Beagle need a lot of financial help to take care of these hurting children. Can you help them? You can send some monthly support or a one-time gift to their ministry thru CRF.–Milt

Sean Penn has made a lot of headlines at the Cannes Film Festival, and it is not a movie that he is promoting. He is calling for the film industry and any sympathetic heart to finish the task in Haiti. The poverty and the crisis are still there. Others will argue that enough is enough. Too much money and effort went into the Haiti crisis and not nearly enough relief actually happened. They will spin stories of governmental abuse and poorly spent relief money.

I think I can argue both sides. Continue reading →