Desires Of Dust

I was very shy about sharing this publicly. Its something that is deeply imbedded in my heart, but I know that anyone who has never visited Nairobi will not understand. I decided to share this with you because you support these beautiful children by supporting me. I also think its imperative to know about these stories so you understand what you are looking at in the pictures I post. This is my story. Just one of them. I hope you may begin to form an accurate vision of this place. 

Dust is what I want to be covered in. Seas of browns and light reds pour into my dream-like vision. Little hands reaching for mine. I want my heart to be filled by smiles that generously are given to my foreign face. Nairobi, the land that I never expected to capture the title "home", is where I want to be. 

Almost a month to go and I feel the tug of my heart, the swells, as my thoughts are filled with Kenya. Yes, I want to be covered in dust and sand. It's inescapable when you are there. Yet it's a sign that clings to me, when I return to my resting place for that night, of where I walked. The sand and dust are light red. The faces are all brown. Both collide to form an ombréish painting.  I want to be back to where that is all I see. I want to feel the touches of hundreds of hands throughout the day grasping for me, yearning to touch the unfamiliar white skin that I have, desperately desiring one glance from my eyes. I loved the kids running to me shouting "How are you?". They surrounded me with joy. Each touch reminded me of my purpose: to love. Their smiles were infectious. Despite the surroundings of tin houses and tattered dusty clothing, walking through the Mathare Valley was joy. My heart longs to be there. To be in the place where I only spent two weeks. I never expected it to leave a well in my heart.

These are all things I long for. Things that most will never understand. What I know for certain is that no one could understand the unexpected feeling that swelled up in me on my first day. This feeling took me by complete surprise: Jealously. It was felt the first night as the grace house workers sung to us as we poured out of our buses, singing with the brightest smiles and genuine desires to serve us. It was felt when I was surrounded by the disabled children. The way they were closed off and quiet then transformed into typical rambunctious children. All because they had unshakable joy. A joy that could only come from the father. A joy unknown to me in America, where food and medicines are abundant. Where we can have any want within moments of wishing it. So why do we not have this joy? 

I will never forget the convicting realization that they have more than we Americans will ever know. They have absolutely everything they need and are assured in that one thing. They have total reliance on God. Each child has nothing to rely on but him. Is that not exactly what God asked of us? We are supposed to serve one master, we are supposed to drop our nets, we are supposed to crawl and bow in the dust of our maker. These children and people do that every moment. They praise the Lord with all their might to have been fed and given the opportunity to go to school. Their small beautiful voices praise God so wholeheartedly that it's captivating to watch. So yes I am jealous of these children, I am jealous of their trust in God. 

I decided to share that with you to reveal my heart. So you know that I am wholeheartedly in this. To know that the foundation that I took over my Jr. year of high school was breathed from echoes of the children's hearts. This is simply what I felt. I once again hope that sharing this with you cleanses your views of Nairobi. That it renews your take on the children that you pray for and support. 

Thank you for allowing me to pursue Gods will. It's a gift to be surrounded by a community that builds up and gives whole heartily and generously. Thank you sincerely. 

Xoxo in his love, 
Mads