Faith and Mother's Day 2013

Tumultuous emotions seem to reign in my heart since we moved to Kenya; the last several months have been no exception.  We regularly experience astounding miracles that cause my heart to soar and send me to my knees in worship, renewing my strength and my faith, but these are mingled with discouragement and sadness that weigh on my heart like a stone. 

I’ve thought a lot about faith lately.  I’m studying the book of James through a Beth Moore study and have learned a lot about the man, James, and have been convicted about faith in action.  James was the first leader of the Jewish Christians and a pillar in the new church.  He grew up literally sleeping next to the Messiah and completely missed Jesus’ intended purpose until He rose from the dead and confronted James face to face.  Yes, James had grown up with devout faith - anchored in a fabricated messiah, until God shifted his paradigm with the truth about The Messiah and rocked his faith to the core.  James was a man in process, a man we can all relate to, who talked about the multi-faceted elements of faith with a depth of personal experience that beckons us to listen and to be inspired into action.

Simultaneously, I’ve been thinking about another Faith.  Sweet, disenchanted Faith, is one of our Hill   neighbor’s distantly related niece of sorts. With a name like that, she’s either going to inspire or make one consider whether to question having faith in her.  Unfortunately, so far, she’s chosen the latter as her mantra. She’s caught in the cycle of poverty, unknowingly perpetuating it herself with her poor choices.  Pregnant at 17 by a married man who promised her love, she now nurses a precious baby girl and wonders about true love and whether love is really true.  She’s unable to go back to school because, who in their right mind in this community would help when “she chose this road and now she must walk down it.”  Meanwhile, alone, abused and neglected, she is sent away from her so-called home with her small child.  She is searching for something – anything - to put her faith in. 

I’m overcome by sadness at the hopelessness that plagues her and countless other young girls as they search for love in all the wrong places. “I love you Faith.  I love you with all my heart.  I desperately want you to know true, unconditional love,“ both God and I yell loudly, but seemingly not loudly enough for her to hear.

Then, out of the blue, Faith (the girl and the concept) calls me on the phone, as if questioning my own. 

“Can you help me?” 

“What do you need, Faith?” 

“I need some soap and diapers for the baby.” 

Soap and diapers?  Is that what faith is looking for today…soap and diapers? I can do that. 

“What else?”  I silently scream in my mind, “How about a life? A Future?  Hope? True Love?”

And I start to wonder, if faith inspires action, what action will inspire this Faith?

We finish talking and I hang up the phone and pray,  “Help my Faith God.  Help me discern what You’re doing.”

The answer slowly unfolds over time.  Through an implausible web of relationships, a Mama on the other side of Kenya, who has never met Faith but who lives by her name, hears her story.  She approaches me and, as if speaking with the voice of God, asks me where my sweet Faith is... the Faith I love and wrestle over.  Mama has an idea.  What if she helps with the baby so Faith can flourish in the love of her home, go to trade school, and reclaim the intended purpose of her name? 

Though challenged and thwarted on many levels, as faith often is, God eventually brought Faith to Kijabe. This week on Mother’s day, I had the chance to sit with Faith for several hours on my back porch.  She’s been here for many weeks, but it was the first opportunity I've had to spend time with her.  She poured out her heart, speaking of rejection, abuse, beatings, and her search for love.  She is still disillusioned in many respects, but, remarkably, she still has hope and is still searching for her significance.  I pray she will find it in Jesus alone and that through Him she will live up to the high calling of her name. 

Just like James in the Bible, my faith and Faith are in process.  Faith’s future depends on trusting God, good choices, consistent action, and steady progress forward even when things are difficult.  So does mine.  

Kijabe Mudslides

On Friday evening we had some friends over for a game night.  About 7 pm, it started raining... hard.  The rain increased in intensity and about 11 pm our friends (who live 5 houses away) had to be driven home as the rain was so intense.  Everyone had water coming into their houses as the rain was driving sideways and under the roof caps.

The rain persisted all night and we awoke to the news that 3 of the 4 roads out of Kijabe were closed due to several mudslides that had devastated the area.  Some of you live in areas where mudslides are common but we have never seen anything like this before.  Several people's homes washed away during the night.  Many people had homes full of mud and/or water.  One family lost 3 children when their home washed away.  Please pray for them.

Here are some photos:





Many of you know the tunnel that the railroad track runs across to get to Kijabe from Nairobi. It's a tall tunnel - at least 18 feet high. It was blocked with mud and trees everything was flowing over the top.  This is the top of the tunnel.

Here's the tunnel from the Kijabe side blocked by mud and trees and filled halfway up with mud.

Clearing the tunnel.  

View from standing on top of the bridge.

DEEP Mud!

This is the mudslide area that washed down and filled the tunnel.  You can see the large portion of land that washed away.  You can also see Rick, Caleb and Rachel standing on the top of the bridge at the right watching them clear the road.

Here is the road coming from the top, the tunnel is just ahead around the corner.  Water continued to flow down this all day.  The guys here were trying to divert the flow into the valley.

That is one of the water pipes that brings water to Kijabe.  Despite the abundance of rain, we have a water shortage.  

Here is another extensive mud slide just outside the Rift Valley Academy upper gate.  There used to be a security fence across this which washed down the road along with several large trees and boulders.  

Higher up on the RVA mudslide.  

This is what the road looked like on our drive home.  We were thankful for four wheel drive.  

A smaller mudslide across the tracks. Caleb enjoyed the mud with one of his best buddies.

Ostrich Riding

Did you know there are ostrich saddles?  Well there are.  As comfortable as a horse’s saddle is, they have not yet perfected the same level of comfort for an ostrich saddle, maybe because ostriches are not meant to be ridden. 

Before Mallory left Kenya last year we wanted to do something special together with her that “you can only do in Kenya.”  Besides it was Rachel’s birthday and she’s the creative and fun one in our family so planning a ridiculous and crazy event served a double purpose.

We heard about the Maasai Ostrich Park on the south side of Nairobi that features ostrich riding.  This sounded ridiculous, crazy and special.  I’m not sure if you can only ostrich ride in Kenya, but it fit 3 of our 4 criteria for the day.  We all gathered around the computer to research ostrich riding on the Internet. I curiously noted the advertisement for “Travel Insurance” flashing on the left side of the screen, as the page slowly loaded.  This was my first indication that what we might be heading into was definitely questionable and possibly dangerous. I’m pretty sure Caleb squealed once or twice with delight.

The following advertisement (I’ll call it a disclaimer) came up, further cautioning some of us while thrilling others.   

Masai Ostrich Park Nairobi Ostrich Ride Ostriches are very strong birds, one ostrich has to be held by two attendants before anyone can mount them. The attendants then control the bird during the ride. The experience is more frightening than it is enjoyable. Sometimes the ostrich moves so fast making even a confident man terrified in case it throws him off and starts kicking. Ostriches have the reputation of strong heavy kicks that can kill a Lion. Wild predators have died after falling victim to their infamous kicks. The mortality rate of ostriches is heightened by the fact they tend to eat anything, including picking on each other’s feathers. When they eat indigestive materials, their stomachs hurt and start rotting, this prevents them from eating again. Eventually, they die. I guess that is why they are referred to as daft, what with the proverb; ‘don’t sink your head in the sand like an ostrich’.

I’m not sure if the part about ostriches swallowing “indigestive materials” was to be an encouragement to bring something indigestible in case you were thrown off to present as a peace offering in place of being kicked or if it was just informational.  I’m also not sure what mother in their right mind would let their family participate in this activity after reading this, but clearly I was out of my mind that day. 

So we went.  A long hot two-hour drive through the center of Nairobi, where we determined that the plural form of ostrich is ostriches and not ostrii, started the day on an educational note and we emerged on the other side at the Maasai Ostrich resort in good spirits.  

As we drove in, I noted that we were the only ones there, which to me was further indication that this was not a popular or recommended sport. However, adding to our already educationally rich morning, we cleaned our shoes before entering the grounds to prevent the ostriches from getting diseases and began with a wonderful and instructive tour of the ostrich farm with a knowledgeable tour guide.  We saw two types of ostriches from small to large as well as learned about their habits. "They do eat each other’s feathers!" we noted by the fact that some of them had several bald spots. We laughed at their funny countenance and their curiosity at us.  It was nice for this to be mutual.   The kids fed them green grass, which they appreciated so much that they began fighting over it.

Upon finishing the tour, I was relaxed and content thinking this was really worth the long drive. That is, until our guide asked us if we’d like to ride an ostrich.  “I’m good,” I thought.  “I have never seen baby ostrich until today nor fed an ostrich until today, so I’ve done my unusual and crazy duty as a mother. Right?!” 

“YES!!!” everyone else screamed in delight bringing me out of my reverie.  Oh great…we’re going through with it. 

As we approached the ostrich arena I noted the posted warning sign, and, thinking back to the website, wondered how many willing and unwilling victims these birds had destroyed with their powerful kick.  Rick, in a daring and heroic move, stepped to the front of the line and offered to go first.  If someone were to fall victim, he would be the gallant warrior who would sacrifice for his family by being the first to ride an ostrich.  (A sentence I never thought I’d write.)  Also true to what the website indicated, he was flanked by two professional ostrich attendants, so I did take some comfort in that.

Rick survived two trips around the arena much to the delight of everyone in our group, except me.  I mean, I was delighted that he survived, but knew that meant my turn was closer. Then Mallory and Caleb took their turns, and survived.

It was now my turn.  I bravely and carefully climbed the fence, mounting the ostrich, which seemed to be more agitated with each trip around the arena.  This would be his 7^th trip.  Was that his limit?  I tried to situate myself on the ostrich saddle having no idea where to put my feet.  It was supremely uncomfortable and I grabbed on for dear life to his wings.  Really?  That’s what you hold onto? The wings? Couldn’t they have thought of a saddle horn or something?  I settled on tightly wrapping my feet around the front of the ostrich’s chest and crossing my feet.  Now that I think of it, it is actually surprising he could still breathe.

“Okay.  I’m ready for this,” I thought, psyching myself up, feet locked tight and hands gripped securely on the wings.  “Only twice around and about fifteen seconds for each trek.  Thirty seconds of my life. I can do this!” And off we went. 

Due to the fact that there is not even the slightest hint of a back on an ostrich saddle as well as to my amateur status, I quickly began sliding right off the back of the ostrich as we lurched forward.  Thankfully, my two professional ostrich attendants anticipated this and simultaneously grabbed on to my backside pushing me back on. Rick and the rest of the family could hardly stand up, they were laughing so hard. 

What ensued was perhaps the most terrifying experience of my life so far.  Ostrich riding is not fun.  The 15 seconds around the arena that followed felt like 15 days and caused every part of my “fight or flight” instinct to kick in and my heart started pounding. And yes, the professional ostrich attendants held on to my backside the entire time.  I’ve never been so thankful for two strange men to be holding on to my rear.  We made it around the arena once and as we galloped in towards the crowd I said as calmly as I could, “I’m good.  I think one time around is enough.” 

Not wanting me to waste any of the 500 shillings I’d paid for the ride, my attendants just looked at me as if not understanding the English the seemed so proficient at when they took my money minutes before, and took me for a second trip around the arena which was equally terrifying.  As I quickly dismounted the ostrich, and leapt out of the arena, I was shaking. Whew!  I did it!  And I survived!  They definitely should have a medal for this. 

We finished our rides and spent the next hour and a half laughing at ourselves and eating ostrich burgers for lunch, which are surprisingly delicious.  This may or may not be due to the fact that you feel slightly inclined to kill an ostrich when you get off of one.

We closed out the day in the gift shop, where I decided in a moment of last minute inspiration, to remember this momentous day by purchasing an ostrich egg.  After all, every decent family needs an ostrich egg.  Rick, Mal and the kids went to get the car while I completed what I thought would be a quick purchase.  It turned out to be a bureaucracy nightmare.  Forty-five minutes later, I emerged from the gift shop with a fully registered and certified ostrich egg along with several sets of papers proving this was my official egg. It could even travel with me outside of the country if, and only if, I myself, brought the papers along.   If you’re lucky, I’ll bring it to the US the next time I come.  

Me proudly holding my certified ostrich egg!

Christmas Compassion

We are back on the ground in Kenya and are thankful for the time spent with family and friends in the US!  

I turned 42 last week and I’m still humbled by how much I have to learn.  This last Christmas was no exception…

After traveling for more than 24 hours, we returned to Kenya from the US late on Christmas Eve.  Exhausted, we finally fell into bed around midnight.  On Christmas morning, we slept in, enjoyed being together as a family, exchanged some gifts and had a delicious lunch with some friends in the afternoon. 

The rest of the week we spent with good friends on The Hill and the kids we love so much.  My guess is that many of you have a similar Christmas week story - relaxing time spent with family and loved ones.  After all, that’s what Christmas is all about isn’t it?

The first week of January, we returned to Kijabe to prep for school and to get back into the routine of life.  My house help and good friend, Njoki, also returned to work for us in the afternoons.  Monday, when she arrived, we exchanged excited greetings and Christmas gifts and gradually settled into deeper conversation. 

Let me tell you about Njoki.  Njoki is a Kikuyu woman, born to a poor mother who struggled to feed her and her sisters and brothers. Njoki has a strong, determined personality.  Unlike some Kenyans, she doesn’t feel like she is less important or inferior to white people, nor does she feel arrogant around them, like other Kenyans.  She considers us equal - equal in the eyes of Christ.  Maybe that’s one of the reasons she’s so easy to like.

Njoki went to school through 8^th grade and then worked to help support her family.  She never married but instead, took in her sister’s children when her sister died.  Then she took in other children who had no place to go.  She has a God-sized, compassionate heart and cannot refuse assisting anyone.  So far, she has raised nine desperate children – some so severely ill when she found them that not even the doctors thought they would live. 

She lives near the Kijabe hospital and takes in anyone who needs help.  Her house is a revolving door of people with nowhere else to go.  She has very little money, and what little she does have, she shares generously with anyone who has a need.  I often send food home with her and as she leaves, she prays and asks God who it’s for.  Sometimes it’s for her children, but more often than not, she will find a needy person on the way home and give it to them instead. She lives completely by faith.  She has never gone hungry, nor have her children, and she has a slew of miraculous stories about God’s provision in her life for EVERY need.

“What did you do for Christmas Njoki?” I asked, not realizing what a loaded question I had posed. 

“Well….,” she said hesitatingly, choosing her words carefully, “We were all going to be together in Nairobi at Margaret’s place, but something came up and we decided to stay here.”  Margaret is one of the girls Njoki raised.  Now, mind you, going to Nairobi is a big deal for this family. Going to Nairobi for them would be like us going to Disney for a holiday.  They were planning to be with close friends that they don’t regularly get to see.

“What do you mean ‘something came up,’ Njoki?  What happened?” I pressed.

And then, she proceeded to tell me about Peterson, the small ten-year-old boy with a big name. She started slowly, but quickly gained speed, becoming more passionate as she talked. Peterson is a partial-orphan whose mother died of AIDS and whose father lives on the streets.  Peterson, who also has lived on the streets, was left at a government orphanage a week before Christmas.  He was so severely ill that the orphanage staff thought he was going to die.  They decided to take him to Kijabe hospital to see if anyone could help or at least give him a place to die.  The government worker who brought him began to inquire around Kijabe about hiring someone to attend to him.  Three different people on three consecutive days came to care for him.  Each, in turn, took one look at him and refused to even come near him. He was dying.  His skin was falling off in places.  He had deep, open, oozing wounds.  He was HIV positive and questionable for TB.  He weighed 22 pounds. The medicine he was given was so painful he would thrash and scream when the nurses injected it into his IV.  Even they were scared to come near him. 

The word “Kijabe” means “place of the wind.”  It has a double meaning in that gossip spreads like the wind around the place as well.  The “Kijabe wind” concerning Peterson blew right into Njoki’s ear, and she immediately went to the hospital to see him.  As the nurses were loudly warning her to put on a gown and a mask so she wouldn’t catch a disease, she indignantly blew past all of them and gently picked the suffering child up in her arms.  She intentionally kissed him on the forehead and began lovingly stroking his arms and speaking words of love and encouragement to him.  She sat with him all day.  This was probably the first time anyone had held him in years. 

Later that day, Njoki called Margaret in Nairobi and told her about the boy.  And, like her adopted mother, Margaret without hesitation said, “I’m coming up, we’ll have Christmas there.”  So she did.  She came to Kijabe along with “Big” Elizabeth and Joseph.  “Small” Elizabeth and Ephriam joined them.  In fact, all of Njoki’s kids came.  They spent all of Christmas break taking turns sitting with Peterson through the day and night and on into January.  They never made it to Nairobi. 

I was stunned by her story.  She gave up 3 weeks to just sit with a sick little boy, who could never repay her, and let him know that he was loved by her and by Jesus.  Who does that?  Who gives up a Christmas celebration in Nairobi with friends and family to sit by a stranger’s bed?  Who uses their personal money to feed someone special meals so they can get strong?  Who sacrifices everything like this? 

Matthew 25:31-40 says this:

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne.  Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.  And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left.

Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’

Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?  And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?  And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’

And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ “

I have pondered this event in my mind for over a month now.  I’ve cried over my lack of true compassion and my selfishness.  I’ve had to repent and have had to admit that I have a long way to go.  I have prayed for God to change my heart and to bring me to a place where I would do anything for the least of these.  After all, that’s what He did for me when He sent Jesus to earth at Christmas. God, the Creator of the universe, humbled Himself and became a human to let us know we are so loved that He would die for our sin so we could have a restored relationship with Him. 

Though I’ve known it in my head, I learned something this year about the true meaning of Christmas in my heart. Though family and friends are important, Christmas is really about sacrifice - the ultimate sacrifice.  I actually saw it lived out in front of me and will forever be changed by it. 

Peterson was discharged in good health from Kijabe at the end of January and returned to the government orphanage. Unbeknownst to us, he regressed quickly while he was there and was readmitted at a different hospital.  We were heartbroken to learn that he was near death last week.  Njoki rushed to see him on Saturday, but it was too late and he died that afternoon.  He has made a full recovery in the arms of Jesus.  Please pray for Njoki and her family as they are struggling with this great loss. 

May we all find opportunity to serve the least of these today and every day. 

On Oasis for Orphans:
I could go on about this story and the frustration and anger we’ve felt over the loss of this boy.  We knew he was at risk of being neglected in a government facility but we did not know how severely.  We were working with Njoki to get him into her care.  She begged the government workers to have full custody of him.


I cant even begin to express in words how critical good children’s homes are in providing care for orphaned children.  Please pray for Oasis, support Oasis and spread the word about Oasis as we work together to provide homes for the seemingly endless supply of orphans.  We pray that some day there would be no more Petersons.  

Being Thankful...

A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail that included the following statement…

“The (name removed) said that your living in Kijabe is going to be soooooo much better for you.”

I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.  I think it was directed towards the added comforts to which we have access at Kijabe - consistent running water, a washing machine, refrigeration, hot water, etc. 

It really caused me to think.  Do modern conveniences make life “better”?  They certainly make life less time consuming and allow us to live more independently, but does that make life “better”? 

When we moved to Kenya, one of our predominant observations was how content Kenyans are with the little they have.  They are consistently short on supplies, food, household items, money…They live in mud huts!  But, they are comfortable with their “little” and focus on their wealth of relationships. 

Maybe it was because everything was so new, but we fell into that right away. 

Reflecting back to living on The Hill, I realized several things.  We actually didn’t mind not having running water.  We had to borrow our friend’s donkey, purchase some 20 L containers, and seek the help of a neighbor to haul water from the creek to our house.  It was time consuming but it provided us with the opportunity to build community and dependence on our friends.

Katie and Ruth's Daughter

Living without a washing machine was fine.  Sure, our socks and underwear and cotton clothes were 2 times the normal size from scrubbing them in a bucket and faded in the sun from hanging them on a line but, we sought out some much needed help from our young married neighbor girl.  She could finish ten times faster than me!  She became a good friend of ours along with her children who would accompany her and hang out with our children.  This provided her with some shillings to buy pots, pans and serving utensils for her own house and provided us with a trusted friend.  It was worth it. 

Caleb and Ruth's Son 

Not having a refrigerator forced me to seek help from our house-worker for Kenyan recipes that could be made from scratch.   We worked together combining some of my ideas and some of hers and found some new favorites that both of our families enjoyed.  She and I strengthened our relationship because of the time spent learning together and just being together. 

Not having hot water was…sacrificial – especially for me, who likes showers that are hot and plenteous.  It was inconvenient to heat water on the stove, to shower in a bucket, and to be conservative…but we were consistently clean.  And, in light of our neighbors who daily showered in cold water, we actually felt spoiled by our short, warm bucket shower. 

Movie night in a mud hut!

Honestly, as I’ve thought about this, I think “better” is a matter of perspective.  We were quite content living in Joseph and Annah’s mud hut.  There was always someone to help us figure out how to live in Kenya. We were grateful for every little blessing God provided us with.  We didn’t even realize how time consuming and challenging these simple things were until we moved to the Guest House. 

Cleaning the Oasis Guest House to move in

Then we found a new sense of gratitude.  The day we moved into a brick home that freed our family up to live alone, we had a giant celebration.  The day we went from no electricity to solar energy was another reason to rejoice.  The afternoon water poured through our kitchen faucet from the well was a tremendous blessing to us and to our next door neighbors, who also used this water and a toilet that flushed – We felt like kings and queens on our new throne (Haha!).  We found contentment in every little added blessing.

In some ways, we feel the same today about Kijabe.  We can’t believe that we get to live in such a beautiful and relationally rich (in a different way) area where our kids can attend a Christian school, and we can continue to work to rescue and develop orphans. Looking back at the challenges we faced living in the Guest House, we now realize that things were more difficult there, but we had been content because our perspective was rooted in the circumstances from which we’d come.  

However, despite the access we have to “better” things, we’ve found that it is easier to be discontent here.  When we moved in, our bathroom sink and tub didn’t drain (and hadn’t for years).  They were coated in dirt, rust, and mold.  So we had to re-do the bathroom to make it usable.  We’d love to paint the interior of the house so it looks more appealing (something about pink and purple walls are hard for me).  People have relatively, so many things here that there’s been a rash of thievery in the community so we find ourselves concerned over safety.  There’s been a water shortage, and we’ve felt a little put out because there’s a team of experts who should be able to fix it… I could go on. 

So today, I’m thankful for the opportunity to consider these things carefully and the reminder to be thankful in every circumstance.  Life is not easy.  Living circumstance can be hard physically, socially, emotionally, and financially.  But shifting perspective can be life altering. 

I came across a Bible verse this week that responded to that e-mail perfectly…

“I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that you renewed your concern for me… I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:10-13

As we remind ourselves, we encourage you with this today - Despite your circumstances, find reasons to be grateful to God, who will give you strength in every moment and will give you thankfulness in all circumstances!  

A Smith Update

God has been so faithful to us and we cannot begin this update without giving a shout out to Him for bringing about two miraculous breakthroughs in our work this month. 

The first miracle involves relationship…Living and working in a different culture has its challenges.  We’ve faced several difficult issues that are being named “cultural differences” but, in truth, are more accurately issues of integrity. Sin has a way of distorting and entangling every person and culture, but confession and truth can are the keys to healing and beginning afresh.   In a truly miraculous situation this month, we saw this in action when a Kenyan friend and co-worker approached us and apologized for their part in the problem.  It was unprecedented and rarely seen in this culture, and it has allowed God to begin the restoration process in their life and in our relationship.  Though we still have a long way to go, we have renewed hope in moving forward and would appreciate your continued prayers as we walk through this process in love.

The second miracle involves provision…We have been in a process of fundraising to cover our family’s needs in order to remain here for an additional three years.  Our financial needs will increase as we move to Kijabe, and several of our donors who committed to supporting us for two years have been called to other areas.  This is a humbling process to go through, but we are so thankful to God for encouraging many of you to respond by renewing your commitment to pray for us and continue supporting us.  We are also very grateful for those of you who have joined our team!  We have recently reached our goal for year one, through some generous one-time gifts, but are still in need of more monthly commitments to get us to our three-year target. 

The Top 5 Things We’ve Loved About Summer Break!

• Katie’s home! Our summer began on July 13^th, when all four children finished the school year.  We started our summer by spending a day together in Nairobi seeing “Spider Man” and eating at Java House, our favorite restaurant!  Then we headed for The Hill via the famous Maasai Mara Game Reserve for a mini-safari.  Though the animals were scarce at that time, we were so glad to be back together again as a family!

• Visitors! Five days into summer our first visitors arrived.  We’ve had a revolving door at the Hill with various teams coming and going over the last 6 weeks.  We have enjoyed every moment reconnecting with family and friends and watching them fall in love with the Kenyan people we serve and love.

• New Oasis Sites!  Over the course of the summer, we’ve been able to visit every potential new Oasis site and spend time with the leaders and children from each place.  We are more excited than ever to see these dreams become reality and are working diligently to lay the groundwork for this.

Rick with kids from The Bush

• EPIC Planning!  This year, the Oasis Year End Benefit will be entitled EPIC.  Oasis kids will tell an epic story, complete with heroes who have participate in their rescue.  Through this event, we eagerly anticipate sharing with you what God is doing here in Kenya!  Rick and I will be in Grayslake for the benefit and would love to see you! If you live in the Chicago area, mark your calendar for the evening of Sunday, December 2 at the Chapel in Grayslake.  Oasis will also be hosting many living room EPIC events all over the country.  If you are interested in attending or hosting a EPIC event in your area, please contact Ann.  ann@oasisfororphans.org. 

• Moving to Kijabe! Our kids have been praying for months that our house in Kijabe would open up early so we could begin getting things moved there and  start meeting people.  Miraculously, the house opened up on August 3^rd and though we only spent a few nights there, it was fun to meet our new neighbors and begin to get things settled!  We are excited about this new opportunity God has placed in front of us and the potential it brings to rescue and develop more orphans.  Rick has begun teaching two classes at Moffat Bible College.  His schedule worked out wonderfully and he is teaching Tuesday afternoons and Wednesday mornings, which allows him ample time to continue working on Oasis tasks and he is loving teaching!

First Day of School at Rift Valley Academy!

Dennis and Daisy - Tragic Loss

It is with deep sorrow that we write this letter to tell you we lost two of the precious children in the Oasis program.  Daisy and Dennis both died within weeks of each other. Every child at Oasis is special in their own way, and both Daisy and Dennis had God’s fingerprints all over them.

Daisy’s Story:

Little Daisy was born on June 4th and was welcomed into the Children’s home with joy.  She was a beautiful baby and lived up to her name. (See previous blog for story). When she was only a week old, she contracted pneumonia and was taken to Tenwek Hospital.  After 10 days, she recovered from the pneumonia, but when the doctors tried to remove her from oxygen, she began to struggle.  So, they looked for other health issues that could be causing this. 

An x-ray was performed which revealed that Daisy had a significantly enlarged heart.  This was very concerning.  An additional test called an echocardiogram was needed to determine the exact cause of the heart enlargement.  There was also concern that if the condition required surgery there would not be a doctor available at Tenwek to perform it until October.  The doctors were hopeful that Daisy would recover enough to come home and be able to have surgery in October. 

However, over the course of the month, Daisy’s health continued to decline.  So, the doctors recommended that she be brought to Nairobi for additional testing.  On July 11, Daisy went in an ambulance to Kenyatta National Hospital where an echocardiogram was performed.  It was found that she had 3 holes in her heart in addition to transposition of the great vessels.  This meant that her aorta and pulmonary vessels were switched.  This is a fatal condition that can only be reversed through a complicated, and high-risk surgery.  Unfortunately, there was not a surgeon in Kenya who could help. 

Daisy quickly became weaker and weaker. On Friday, July 13, 2012, she died in the loving arms of her mother and woke up in the loving arms of her Heavenly Father.  Daisy was buried this week and the mamas placed daisies on her grave.  We all mourn the loss of this precious flower.

Dennis’ Story:

Oasis found Dennis when he was 14 years old and recruited him into the Day Program in the Bush at the end of last year.   Immediately, we recognized that we had a special boy on our hands. He was incredibly affectionate and his smile was charming.  He loved to give hugs and wanted to snuggle up next to anyone who would put their arm around him. He was the kind of kid that melted your heart in an instant.   

However, Dennis was sick.  He had epilepsy.  Two years ago, while having a seizure, Dennis fell into a fire and severely burned his leg.  Due to lack of good medical care, it was left untreated and developed significant scarring and infection that affected his ability to walk. 

Many of you knew of Dennis because he was recently taken to Kijabe Hospital to have surgery to repair his burned leg.  In addition he was put on a medication regimen that helped get his seizures under control.  After surgery, Dennis came to live at the Children’s home on The Hill while he recovered.  He thrived on The Hill.  The other children embraced him fully and the mamas coddled him.  He was finally able to walk again.  Indeed, hope was restored to Dennis.

Sadly, on the evening of June 25, Dennis began to have a massive seizure.  It lasted for more than an hour.  Afterwards, he never regained consciousness.  He was rushed to the hospital, but there was nothing that could be done and we lost our precious child. 

He was buried a few days later with more than 300 people from The Hill and Bush communities gathered together. It was sad...so, so sad to say goodbye to one of our children; to watch the family wail and mourn over their lost brother, nephew, and cousin; to see the other children at TCH weep over the loss of their friend.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Below is the journal entry one of the Oasis staff members wrote immediately after hearing Dennis had passed away:

 I honestly can't even describe the deep sadness I feel right now and cannot seem to stop crying for the past few hours over this loss.  We lost a family member today and a boy who had the deepest joy of the Lord and a smile that could just melt your heart.  Dennis would just beam when he saw us.  He gave such intense hugs that he almost caused pain because he squeezed so tight.  He loved life and didn't seem to mind the pain of his epilepsy or his leg.  He was so strong and so inspiring to be around that you could not help but catch his joy. 

When he was in the hospital, Ann would take him candy and he would share it with every kid in his room so that they all could be as happy as he was.  He had that special kind of generous, gracious, and wonderful heart. 

His life was hard but you would never have known it.  I honestly cannot put into words how much I loved this kid, and I'm sure the Smith's can't either.  Anyone who met him knew his contagious joy and was blessed by it.  He was simply put a beautiful, precious child.  

  

Even though it is a loss for all of us, he is with our Father now and is healed and home.  I have this incredible image in my head right now of Dennis playing around in heaven with 2 good legs, no seizures, and running into God’s arms for a big bear and finally experiencing Someone who can hug back as tight as he can. 

God only knows why this was Dennis and Daisy’s time to go. Phillipians 3:21 tells us that when we get to heaven, Jesus will transform our earthly bodies so that they will be like His glorious body.  Though Dennis never had the chance to run here on earth, I can assure you Dennis is running now as he had a strong and vibrant relationship with Jesus.  And though Daisy struggled with every breath, we know she is enjoying perfect health in heaven. We who remain have hope because Jesus made it possible to have a relationship with God. 

We have been reminded during this tragedy of how Oasis is really a family.  Everything we do is built around our desire to engage kids and sponsors in personal and meaningful ways.  Although we prefer to celebrate successes, we also must be prepared to grieve losses together.

As we left Dennis’s funeral, Wilson, the older brother and caregiver of Dennis pulled us aside.  He had been unable to speak during the funeral because he was too overcome with emotion.  He requested that we personally thank all of Oasis for stepping in and helping Dennis.  So thank you to all of you who step in and help these precious children.  We are so grateful for you! 

A video tribute to Dennis can be seen at:

Dennis Video Tribute

Oasis has set up a memorial fund in honor of Dennis and Daisy.  Funds donated will go towards other special medical cases. If you wish to contribute towards this, please follow the instructions below. 

  

How to give to the Dennis and Daisy Memorial Fund:

1. By Check to Oasis for Orphans

Memo:    Dennis and Daisy Memorial Fund

Send to:  

Oasis for Orphans                

P.O. Box 524             

Wadsworth, IL 60083

2. Online at - www.oasisfororphans.org/donate

Donate to the General Fund

In the memo field type: Dennis and Daisy Memorial Fund