THIS IS REALITY

Exhaustion overwhelmed me as I turned the skeleton key in the lock on my cottage door and stepped into my enchanted room. I tossed my backpack on the bed and sat beside it. A quick glance at the clock revealed we had been on the go for 11 hours—it was 8:00 p.m. It was the end of day two in Nairobi and I was beginning to understand all that I would have to process. It has taken me almost a week of being back in the United States to allow my emotions to flow free enough to put these words in print.

It was Monday and our agenda for the day included walking through Mathare Valley, visiting the school at Mathare Outreach Community Center, entering the homes of a different families living in the valley, and visiting Kariobangi Orphanage. My emotional processor had entered overload status. I was looking forward to burrowing under the blankets to ward off the brisk evening temperature and being lulled to a good night’s rest by the gentle sounds of the night in the Tigoni-Limuru hills where Brackenhurst lies.

Standing at the sink in the bathroom, I removed my toothbrush from its holder, twisted the lid off the water bottle and poured the distilled liquid over the bristles. The thoughts began to flood my mind as I lined the brush with toothpaste. The people in Mathare have little access to any semblance of clean water, let alone dental care or basic provisions for health. I took a swig of the clean water and my mind saw the mucky river water running through the valley….the tiny barefoot toes pounding against the rocky dirt…the dirty smiling faces of children lining the pathways…the damp smell of the classrooms…the institutional-sized pot filled with ugali boiling on an open-flame referred to as the kitchen…the feel of walking into a cave of darkness as I entered Zainabu’s home.

I experienced an overwhelming desire to cry out to God…but, the words were stuck to my tongue. So, I cried from inside my heart…Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours. And that night he did.

Burrowing under the covers, I placed my head on the pillow and lay listening to the crickets as I fell asleep. It wasn’t long before I saw myself in my dreams…I was a child lost in Mathare Valley. I heard the sound of feet pattering through the narrow path outside my door and wondered whether this would be the time they came to rob or harm me. My nostrils filled with the damp, foul stench of human waste and I wondered what the fragrant scent of a flower was like. I felt the rumble in my tiny tummy and wondered when my next meal would be delivered. I dreamed about escaping from the valley so that I could become a teacher or nurse or doctor…and wondered why I even bothered with dreams like that. I was stuck in a place where hope has been drained, faith seems a moot point, and love is nothing more than a one-night stand.

I woke from the restless sleep and realized that my life was being changed. Instead of pushing aside the pain, I decided to wrestle with it. As I stood in the hot shower, I had a poignant conversation with God asking him to show me more than just the vast hopelessness that I saw.

He gave me this verse:

“So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on the things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” – 2 Corinthians 4:18.

We see trouble all around: economic hardship, illness, evil all over the world. I needed God to correct my perspective and help me to remember that I was on this trip to invest in the things that will not pass away—in relationships, in expending my energy where God is working; in seeing God’s goodness; in passing along his grace and mercy; in investing in the joys to come; investing in heaven.

No longer did I feel like escaping from reality…but escaping to reality.