My Last Day On the Trails

On Thursday night I was given a choice of what I wanted to do with myself on Friday, walk trails or visit schools.  Truly I felt about 50/50 on the matter.  For me, visiting schools always came easier than walking trails but no matter my insecurities, walking trails was always a blessing in one way or another.  I deferred to our team leader, Tom, and told him he could make the decision for me. 

So when I got ready Friday morning, I honestly didn't know until breakfast what direction I would be going.  I soon found out that I would be hitting the trails one last time.  The old "missionary-stage-fright" came over me once again but I told God I would do whatever he wanted me to do, so I took a deep breath and jumped in.

Truly, by this point on the trip I was wondering what I had left to give of myself.  I felt tired and "spent" for lack of a better term.  Perhaps this is exactly what God was waiting for; less of me so I could be filled with more of Him.  I'm happy to report that I had an amazing time on the trails that day!

For the most part, my day was spent visiting people who were already Christians.  I noticed that Peter was opening our visiting time in prayer more than usual so I asked him how he could tell who was a believer and who wasn't.  He told me the first thing he did when he entered a home was to look at their walls for cues.  He was right.  By quickly looking at what people have hung on their walls you could determine who was a believer and who wasn't.  There were believers in every home we visited that day (with the exception of the last home) who simply needed encouragement.  For me, that can sometimes be harder than sharing the gospel because at least by this point on the trip, I'd had a lot of practice with it.
Each and every time I started a visit I thought to myself, "What on earth do you want me to share with this person, God?  What kind of encouragement can I give them?"  I'd look at that person and despite not having a CLUE as to what would come out, I'd open my mouth to speak.  I just have to say that God gave me specific words of encouragement for each and every person I met that day!  It was weird and wonderful all at the same time.  Every visit was different and every encouragement seemed catered to that person's situation even before I knew fully what their situations were!

One such visit was with a young man named James.  We made introductions, said a prayer and then I started talking about how hard it is to pray for something and not get the answer you want.  Somehow I started telling James the story of Chrissie Patterson and how hard we all prayed and how full of faith we were that God was going to heal Chrissie but that God ended up taking her home to be with Him instead.  Tears started flowing as I shared my heart about Chrissie and about my own struggle in trusting God's goodness and sovereignty even when it doesn't make sense to me.

[see http://allarepreciousinhissight.blogspot.com/ to read all about Chrissie and her amazing family]

James started crying with me, then said that he knew that God had brought me to his house because as of late, he had been struggling in his faith.  He said that his prayer was that God would one day remember him.  Then I shared about the prodigal son and pointed out that in this story it wasn't the Father who changed, it was the son who left.  The father was still the father.  When the son turned and headed towards home, it was the father who ran towards him - he was the one who bridged the distance, not the son.  I assured James that the Father did, in fact, remember him and had only been waiting for him to turn towards home again.

Then our visit really got going.  After we prayed together, I asked James if he had any questions or any other areas I could pray for him about.  [I should mention here that James had excellent English and no translation was needed.] 

"Why yes," James said, "In fact, my friends and I have been wondering about quite a few things lately."  Then he pulled out a written list!  He asked why believers still struggled with sin and temptation.  He asked why more churches didn't teach directly from the Bible.  We talked about God's love and character and what sin and repentance were all about.  We talked about works vs. faith, etc.  I'm sure I'm forgetting something here, but the point I want to make is that God lead me to scripture and gave me answers to each question James had.  That's pretty amazing for this 44 year old brain and nothing short of a miracle from God!  In one visit, I watched this young man go from being a tearful prodigal afraid he'd been forgotten by God to a hungry disciple desiring to know more and more of what God's Word says. 

It was a really long visit that felt a little bit like a test for me - did I really know answers to James' questions (according to scripture) and did I really believe all that we talked about?  By God's grace the answer was "yes".  Peter and I were both energized by our visit with James and left there feeling like we were the ones who had been encouraged.

We were running late getting back to the church and quite frankly, we weren't sure how to get back.  We were sort of walking through a maze that would periodically open up into someones farm where we would stop for another visit then ask directions.  I only shared the gospel one time that day and it was in the last house we visited.  Never before had sharing the gospel come so easily or with such eloquence.  I don't say that in a prideful way - no, not at all because I completely recognize that it wasn't me doing the talking.  The whole day had been too uncanny, too perfect, to have anything to do with my own abilities.  Clearly, God was on the move.  He also gave me a gift during that last visit; a picture of what repentance looks like.

The young father I was visiting with had a toddler sleeping in his lap with their head pressed against his chest.  He did not hesitate to receive Christ and after we had prayed, I opened my eyes and saw that he was crying.  Then God really opened my eyes to the scene before me.  I opened my mouth and started telling him what I saw. 

I told him that God's heart for us was a heart of love and that he held us close in his arms much like he (the young dad) was holding his own child.  That was the relationship that God desires to have with us.  Sometimes we act like fussy children who pull away and throw fits - that is our sin nature.  Just as this young dad couldn't embrace his child while they pulled away, neither could God hold us close when we fitfully go about trying to do things our own way.  Our sin (the fussiness in this analogy) separates us from that close relationship with the Father. 

I asked him to remember a time when his own child had reached up to him with outstretched arms asking to be held.  This was a picture of repentance.  When we stop fitfully insisting on living life our own way and turn to the Father, he is quick to pick us up and hold us close to him once again - that is forgiveness.  In fact, it is his pleasure to do so because he desires to hold us close once again.  God's heart is a Father's heart of love towards his children who he adores.

Hmm.  This whole thing was coming out of my mouth, but as the words came it was as if God were saying to my heart, "Julie, do you understand me now?  Do you know how much I love you?  Do you realize that repentance isn't punishment, but is a gift from a Father who loves you?  Don't be afraid of it.  I love to hold you close."

I can honestly say that I felt pure delight that day.  With each visit I felt more and more as if God were walking with me, holding my hand, giving me words to speak.  Is it possible that even though I was the one speaking encouragement to others I was also the one who received the most encouragement?  

Dear God, please do not let me forget this beautiful day!  No matter how old and senile I may one day be, please do not take this memory from my mind.  Help me to enjoy the gift of repentance you have given me and let me feel your heartbeat day after day.  I love you Lord and I thank you for my last day on the trails of Akala.  - Amen

What a day!  Peter, stop, I have to got to take a picture!

My Trip to Death Row

For our second day of ministry, the majority of the team worked in the village during their weekly market, but my teammate Keith and I were sent to the prisons.  On past trips our team would do prison ministry just one time during the week, but Morris asked us to visit prisons everyday this time around.  Our team this year was already pretty small but to accommodate this request, we split our school teams into school/prison teams.  This meant only 2 of us went one place or the other.  This would be my first time to work inside an African prison.

I was the only female in our entourage that day and it was a little intimidating.  Our group included myself and Keith, Pastor Morris, Pastor Samson from Kisule, our translator Isaiah and another Mzungu we had met named Brad Harris.  Brad was currently living with his family in Kisumu and attending Samson's church.  His mission is to disciple and encourage existing churches of the area but I'll tell you more about Brad in another post.

My mind that day was occupied with thoughts of what I would say and my eyes were distracted by all the sites we saw out the window on our drive.  Poor Keith had an un-characteristically quiet Julie to contend with that day!  I was trying to be sensitive to cultural differences as well and lay down my loud-American tendacies - especially as a woman with a van full of men headed to a prison full of men.

There was a lot of driving and waiting that day.  First we had to make the one hour trip back into Kisumu.  Then we waited at a local grocery store - a Kenyan Walmart if you will - to wait for the Prison Ministry liason, Pastor Moses.  Morris was with us that day and he invited us to browse the store as we waited.  For those of you who have met Morris, he is a reserved man of few words.  Crusing hair products and magazines with the man was a little surreal!  Oh, and the things I saw on the magazines were bothersome.  One was a fashion magazine called African Woman and some of the blurbs on front were "Abortion: is it Wrong?" and "The Controversy of Multiple Births".  I wished for my own money at that point so I could pick up the magazine and see what they had to say. 

You see, abortion is currently illegal in Kenya but it is currently being considered for cases where the life of the mother is threatened (and yes, American money is pushing that agenda).  I don't want to get all political on my Africa blog, but for those who follow the abortion controversy, you know what a slippery slope this new legislation is for the people of Kenya.  Enough said about that.

Eventually, Moses arrived and we were off to purchase gifts for the prison.  This led us off the beaten path onto narrow city streets filled with commerce of every kind.  It was fascinating that we could fit our van down those streets at all since they were extremely narrow and congested with all manner of vehicle.  To make matters worse, there were periodic ditches dug right into the center of the road - BIG ditches - like the kind that if you ran into one your whole front end would be swallowed into a hole.

After what seemed like a long time hunting down gifts, we finally arrived at the prison.  Sorry, no pictures at this point but maybe in the future Keith will share some of his with me.  We were ushered into the chaplain's office for formal introductions while the inmates were gathering in the courtyard outside.  The chaplain explained that all the men we would be visiting with that morning were condemned either to life in prison or to death.  Those on death row never knew when their time was up until their name was called and they were taken to the gallows.  Condemned men are hung in Kenya.

My job that day was to share my personal testimony and Keith shared the Gospel.  I was told that the leading problem within the prison system was sexual immorality.  That, coupled with the knowledge of my own story, made me scrutinize how far I should go with my testimony.

We were ushered in by armed guards into a wide courtyard.  Surrounding the courtyard were block houses that looked something like small airport hangers with iron doors on the front.  No windows.  We were told that at night, hundreds of men were locked inside their "block" and left in the dark without any resources, or guards, until morning.  Apparently they were given buckets to urinate in, but that was about all.

The prisoners wore stereotypical black and white striped clothing.  Again, a little initimidating to be the only woman in that crowd, but they were kept at a distance and we weren't allowed to mingle.  After more introductions were made, it was my turn to share.  After sitting quietly in the van for so long, it was good to open my mouth and use my voice.  We didn't have a microphone so I had to project my voice loudly for all to hear.  This was also the first time in a long while that I had shared my testimony.  It just felt good to let it out again.  I can only pray that God was in control of my words since I'm not totally sure what I said.  I tried to explain that I too was a prisoner of shame and guilt and had even gone so far as to condemn myself to death (i.e. suicidal tendancies) before crying out to God.  I also emphasized portions of Psalm 18 as it related to my story:

"The cords of death entangled me; the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me. The cords of the grave coiled around me; the snares of death confronted me.

In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears." [vs.4-6]

"He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me.  They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the LORD was my support.

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me." [vs.16-19]

I encouraged the men that no matter their circumstances, God could bring their hearts and their souls into "spacious places" if they would only trust in him.  Keith shared the gospel and many men received Jesus that day.  I guess I should explain that there were already many believers within that prison.  They even sang worship songs for us when we arrived.  Hope lived amongst the condemned which was a very cool thing to see.
  

Here's a typical Kenyan security fence...shards of glass mortered onto a fence.  What creative security we choose for ourselves.  Are there prison walls you need to break down with the help of Christ?

 
Our next stop was to what they called the "medium" prison, which was filled with men sentenced for periods of time that would one day be released.  We were told that many of these men came from the surrounding rural areas.  It was a smaller population than the condemned audience, but it was heartbreaking to see how young they all looked.  These were young men who were making bad choices early in life.  I wanted to encourage them to choose differently once they were released.  For this visit I used the Prodigal Son story to frame my testimony.  Again, not totally sure what came out of my mouth, but the point I wanted to emphasize was the restoration displayed in that story.  The son reasons that it would be better to be his father's slave than to continue the life he was living so he decided to beg for a job.  Scripture tells us:
 
"He got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." [Luke 15:20]
 
I just love that.  The father ran towards him and received him as he was!  This is what God did for me and told them it was what God would do for them.  Again, Keith shared the gospel and men came forward to receive.  There were less restrictions with this group of men so we were able to shake hands and encourage our new brothers before leaving that day.
 
Gratefully, Keith and I were deposited back at the hotel that evening instead of journeying back out to Akala to pick up the rest of the team.  I caught a nap and did some journaling and all was right with the world.  The team came back with great stories from the trails and again we enjoyed worshipping together that night.  Hopefully Dave will have time in his busy work schedule to sit down and tell you about his day.  For me, I can only hope that the story of my messed up life before Jesus helped to bring change to at least one person that day.  I will never see those men again this side of heaven, but I'm hopeful some of them will be there to greet me when I go home to the Lord one day.
 
What a great reunion that will be!
 
- Julie

Old Friends and New Trails - The Work Begins

Akala at last!

The village of Akala is Northwest of Kisumu and just past the village of Holo where I had served in 2007 during my first trip to Kenya.  It is a vibrant town with one of the largest weekly markets of that region.  Unfortunately, it took an hour to get there from our hotel and these roads were definately NOT improved!  For those of you who thought anything about these trips resembled a vacation, please know that the beginning and end of each day was spent on one of the worst roller-coaster rides you could imagine...the Kisumu road.  Sections of it were so distorted with crater-sized pot holes that drivers gave up on lanes and just positioned their cars wherever they found a smooth spot - which of course meant that all the cars were gunning for the same areas of road.  The ultimate game of chicken!

Sharp-left = goats, dodge-right = children, hit the hole, gun the engine, beep the horn, dodge the bicycle then sharp-left, hard right BOOM, hit the hole!  Roll down the window. I feel nauseous.  Breathe in the diesel fumes and gag.  Wow, look at that beautiful scenery!

Yes, we had a wild ride each and every day, but what treasures lay at the end of our journey.  One pleasantly weird thing that happened was that as we passed the village of Holo we could see the church I had helped to start off in the distance.  It made me feel like I was "home" in a weird way - like the feeling when you've been away from your parents for a long time and then you pull into their driveway.  Weird to have such a familiar feeling for such a foreign place.

We arrived to the new church late, which meant we missed worship time (boo-hoo! Love me some African worship) but we were greeted by a roomful of familiar faces.  It was so wonderful to smile and hug and visit with our African friends.  Most of the translators this year were men, but we were blessed by the gracious presence of Zappora (whose name I'm sure I misspell).  Zappora is the wise and gentle wife of Boaz, the head master of the Bible College.  The last time I saw Zappora was as Brenda and I were being whisked away from a women's conference in Uganda 2 years ago.  She had inspired us all with a teaching about the lineage of Christ pointing out the colorful women contained therein.

There was also Sosapeter, the pastor from Holo and Eliakim, a much loved young man who we were glad to hear was married and pastoring his own church.  David greeted his translators from years past and introduced me to some of his friends that I did not yet know.  While all this greeting was going on, I looked over the shoulders of the group I was standing with and saw a young man cautiously checking me out from the corner of his eye.  It was my young friend, Martin, who walked the trails with me my first visit to Kenya!  I went straight to him and asked if he recognized me and he said with his finest English, "Yes.  Julie Jacobsen."  How fun to see him after all these years.  It was also an answered prayer since he lives right in the hot-spot of turmoil during the election violence of 2007 and I wasn't sure until that day if he were dead or alive.

We were then partnered with our translators.  David was off to the prisons that day with a group of pastors, but I was partnered with my new friend, Peter, an elder of the Holo church.  After everyone was paired up, Martin volunteered his services to us for the day so I was blessed with two translators instead of one!  It would prove to be a lovely day.

Young Martin from Kisule and Peter from Holo Community Bible Church

Before I left, one of my friends who contributed financially to the trip challenged me to make a difference in the lives of 10 people.  Lisa, I dedicate this day to you!

Walking alone with a translator into an impoverished African village to share the gospel and invite people to accept Christ as their Lord and Savior is an intimidating prospect.  You all know I'm an extrovert, but without fail I always start my trail days anxiously.  I worry that I won't explain things well, or that I'll sound like a crazy person, or that I'll meet a crazy person, or that I'll somehow let God down by messing up the whole thing.  As we started our work that day my mind was racing with pep-talk.  I took a deep breath and thought that I'd just ease into thing a bit.

HA!  God showed us his sense of humor that day.  For Dave it was finding out the night before that he would be preaching in the prisons his first day in-country (not his favorite task) and for me - well, let me explain.

The first group we approached was a gathering of about 10 men sitting under the shade of a bus stop.  Nothing like jumping in with both feet!  They were very attentive and things were going well when all of a sudden, a drunk man named John started asking questions.  I realized he wasn't in his right mind, but he asked some good questions.  He stated that he wanted Jesus but he also wanted his drink.  Not sure what came over me, but I became very direct with this man and told him that the enemy was using alcohol to destroy his life and that ultimately it was his own choice whether or not he chose Jesus or the drink.  All this while the rest of the 10 men watched me intently.  I figured I was just the visiting Mzungu so why not just go for it, right?  Yep, I was in all the way now!

Our next visit was less intimidating as we enjoyed visiting with some women.  Then we walked into farm fields and were invited into private homes.  One older gentleman was eating outside under a tree, but when he saw us coming he left his food and invited us into his home.  We had a good visit with he and his wife and they both received Christ.  Then he told us the coolest thing.  He said that normally he would not leave his food and his work behind to greet visitors, but he said he could sense our good character and saw that a Great Spirit was walking with us so he felt compelled to welcome us.  How awesome is that?!  I had prayed many times that the Holy Spirit would walk ahead of us on the trails and here was a man saying he sensed that very thing!

They were so nice and they asked me to stay for tea.  I respectfully declined and here's where God's humor kicked up again...They offered me a thank-you blessing of avacados and not your run of the mill Haas variety that we find around here.  No, I'd calculate that each of these gigantic avacados weighed at least 1 pound each and they gave me 11 of them!!  Now, one of my worries was that I wasn't physically strong enough to walk the trails this year, yet here I was adding 11 additional pounds to my bakpack that I would have to carry for the rest of the day!  Very funny God!  Yet I was so honored by their gesture of thanks and almost felt like I had been "annointed" by the Avacados.  It was a pleasure to carry them with me the rest of that day.

With one of the avacados I tried to save.  It was shriveling by the time I took this photo, but it still wielded some weight to it!  I had given away all but this one.

We visited with others that day, of course, some believers and others just choosing to believe.  HEY LISA, I had 10 names on my list at the end of the day of people who made a decision to follow Jesus!  Your donation helped to make a definitive difference in the lives of these people but all I did was deliver the message - it will be God who brings the change!  Thank you again for your help.

The final bit of humor God threw my way was in regards to the children's ministry that afternoon.  Running a fun kid's group is not my forte' but I had spent some time the day before getting ready.  Problem was, I realized about an hour and a half before start time that I had left all the children's church materials behind in the van that morning and they were now enjoying a visit to the prisons!  Yep - my whole team had to wing it without any resources at our disposal at all!  That wasn't so funny, but we made it through.

It was a good first day on the trails of Akala.  The people were welcoming and the work satisfying.  We all survived and kept cheerful attitudes intact.  Our prayers were answered and lives were changed.  All the while I felt God's smile upon us throughout our day as if he took real pleasure in being with us.  I'm also pretty sure I heard him laughing!

I hope you enjoy your own laugh with the Lord today!

- Julie

Mission Accomplished!

We have returned from Kenya!  Our trip went amazingly well and there are stories to tell.  I will attempt to give you a day-by-day account but the posts will be slow in coming.  David is on his way to England and we will be sharing writing duties - with the time difference and the amount of work he is facing there, posting may come slowly.  Be patient and I know you will be blessed.

We were extremely blessed on this mission.  The team worked well together and everyone seemed to embrace a servant's attitude throughout the trip.  It all started with airports, of course, but even in our waiting time, I saw God at work.

For instance, we flew out of Houston, which is a 3 hour drive for us.  We arrived in time to eat a little lunch then sat around waiting for our first flight.  We all wore our Bondo team t-shirts and this young African man was sitting nearby.  Dave started chatting with him then he called me over.  I was introduced to Sean of Nigeria as the "author of the blog".  You see, he saw our shirts and wondered what Bondo was so he googled it on his i-phone and this website appeared.  He asked David about it and he told Sean that he was, in fact, married to the "author" of that very site!  This led to talk about our mission, etc. and before we finished visiting, this young man spoke blessing in God's name over our team and over the work we were heading out to do. 

After 9 hours or so on that first flight we found ourselves waiting in the Amsterdam airport.  Since we were headed to Nairobi there were many Africans waiting for the same flight.  One larger group had just finished a convention in Las Vegas (yes, the epitome of the impression you don't want to leave as an American) and they were passionately discussing the oil leak in the Gulf.  Because of our t-shirts, they struck up conversation with some of our team members about where we were headed.

[A quick shout-out to John Powell of Print This, San Marcos TX for the shirts that got our conversations rolling!]

I hadn't slept well on the flight so I felt zombie-like and kept quietly to myself, but what I observed in that room was a team of people already embracing the African people.  It was really beautiful to see how engaged many of our team members were in various conversations.  At one point, a man from the Vegas group grabbed David by the hand and drug him to the other side of the room to introduce him to the "Minister of Immigration" for Kenya who apparently had some connection to the Bondo region.  Dave said he was introduced then left alone with the man to visit.  Before it was all said and done they had discussed the mission and David was handed a Christian book that some man there had written about Joshua.

After another 8 hours we landed safely in Nairobi.  It was great to see Aidah and Morris again and to hug their necks on their home turf.  We were also happy to see two of our favorite drivers, Jimmy and Moses, who were scheduled to be with us all week.  It was a happy reunion there in the dark of the airport parking lot!

We were taken into Nairobi to the Methodist Guest House for the night.  It was there we ran into a *Mzungu couple that had been on our flight.  Dave and I, plus Tom and Brenda, sat down with them at dinner to discuss why we were all in Kenya.  They were school teachers from NYC who were headed into the slum of Kibera for the week. [check out http://www.kslum.org/aboutkibera.htm for more info].  Not only did we talk about mission work, but we also discussed homeschooling and we were hopefully able to answer some of their questions.

I suppose what I'm trying to emphasize is that the mission work wasn't limited to Akala, Kenya - it began in Houston and continued throughout our travels.  Scripture tells us that we are ambassadors for Christ and like earthly ambassadors, you just don't travel unnoticed.  If you're in the public, you are "on" doing your ambassador thing.  It was so lovely to observe the friendliness of our team in action throughout our travels.  I went to bed that night anticipating that this trip would be one of the best.  God would soon exceed my expectations!

Until next time -

Julie

*Mzungu = White person.  You'll be hearing this word alot from here on out.

Money Is the Easiest Thing for God

The start of this blog four months ago marked the start of fundraising efforts for our Kenya mission trip.  I have mentioned several times throughout this process that I believe fundraising is a balance between doing all you can and trusting God to provide everything you need.  That balancing act isn't always easy for me.  I seem waffle someplace between faith and worry.

We undoubtedly believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ and we also believe in the vision Pastor Morris and his wife Aidah have for their homeland of Africa. We believe in these things so much that we were willing to take a risk and mail a few letters, park a few cars, sell a few trinkets and dedicate a little bit of money to serving in Africa once again. Still, despite all that belief we scrutinized our decision - especially in light of fundraising. Is it right to try this thing one more time? Should one of us stay home? Should we both stay home? Did we hear God correctly or is this all our idea?

As my dear friend, K.K. puts it, "Money is the easiest thing for God" and you know what?  She's right!

I'm so happy to report that our fundraising is complete and it was nothing short of an act of God - literally.  David and I had done all we could on our own and as part of the team and still we were about $3,000 short.  We were unnerved by that fact, but had to recognize that we had done all we could and the rest would have to be up to God so we prayed about it and waited.  The next day we were with our team leader discussing our funds when a good friend of ours calls up to say he wants to make a sizeable donation!  I mean we literally said something like, "It will be okay, God will provide" and within 3 minutes the phone call came! 

The next day, while depositing the donation, we discovered other unexpected donors had made visits to our account.  All in all, within a few short days we went from thousands due to a mere $400!  But God wasn't done showing off yet.  A few days from that point, there came other donors who felt moved by God to support our team until all of a sudden we found our whole team fully funded! 

The Bible says "It is more blessed to give than to receive" [Acts 20:35] and I'm starting to think it's true, because the feeling that overwhelms you when you are the recipient of generosity is not an altogether comfortable feeling.  I think they call it humility.

More than ever, I am acutely aware of the fact that we do not make this trip alone.  Yes, we go with God, but we also go with each and every person who felt led to support us in prayer and with their finances.  I am humbled and honored to do this work for God and on behalf of all those people who said, "Yes, we support this.  Yes, we support you."

Dave made a profound observation.  Even though he worked as hard as he could at fundraising, it wasn't enough.  He still fell short.  It was God who bridged the gap and brought our funding to completion.  The same is true for our salvation.  We can never be good enough or work hard enough to be holy and perfect.  Only God is holy and perfect and we are a flawed creation made in his image.  Yet he loves us.  He delights in us and He desires to be with us so God made the way.  He bridged the gap between us.  He did what we could never do.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." [John 3:16-17]

We can never earn the way ourselves.

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." [Ephesians 2:8-10]

We're excited to see what God has planned for the people of Akala, Kenya this year.  Thank you all again for your support.

- Julie