So, it's 8:45 pm, and I'm making granola.
I totally failed at the whole 31 Days of Reflection thing. I have been constantly reflecting on Kenya. Just not here on the blog.
I find it hard to pray. I have ever since we landed in Nairobi. I wish I could explain why, but I can't.
I've been reading books like "Wrecked" and "Greater" and blog posts like this one. They bring tears to my eyes--because I'm happy someone else gets where I am. Because it makes me sad that I haven't done more since I returned. Because I'm frustrated that I can't get myself together enough to do something.
And while these books and posts are awesome, I should be seeking my guidance from The Author and Perfecter of my faith. But all I can muster is a little "Lord, show me what to do now" prayer every morning. And that's about all I can get out.
My African pastor and his wife just returned to Kenya today. They have been here in the States, visiting our church for Missions celebrations and trying to round up some other churches to join in ministry with them. It was good to see them, but it has also wrecked me, even more than I was before.
I asked about the sewing ministry, where they are training girls to sew, giving them a chance at life that doesn't involve selling their bodies, just to feed their families.
I met those girls. They sat next to me while they nervously twirled paper beads. The girls that I sang with, clapped with, worshipped with, prayed for. The girls I carried fabric on my back through fields in the mountains of Kijabe for. The girls that walk for miles to get to class, when they can.
They walk for miles to learn how to use a broken-down sewing machine, while I have one in my home and a spare collecting dust in my basement.
Wilfred tells me that the five sewing machines they have working are falling apart. That if the girls can't find some success selling what they have made, they will have no choice but to go back to the lives of fourteen-year-old prostitutes they're trying to leave behind.
And my brain can't wrap around why these girls are on the verge of collapse, and I'm making granola.
I saw them. I want to do something. I just don't know what that something should be. And right now, God isn't letting me in on His plans.
But, I got wise council from Bob Schindler of Mission ONE this weekend. Basically, he said that I should think of this time as walking around in the dark with a flashlight, and all I can see in front of me is what the flashlight illuminates. He explained that, in his early days of ministry, if God had shown him then where he would end up today, he would have been terrified and ran in the other direction.
So, I will choose to be thankful to have just enough light for today, and trust that God will turn on the spotlight ahead when it's time. He didn't wreck me for no reason. :-)