Before finishing the journaling of my trip I want to tie in some lyrics from a song (and hope to do it with two other songs later). The lyrics are as follows:
"how could I, stand here with you, and not be moved by you...will you tell me, how could it be, any better than this."
I experienced the truth of these lines in many ways these past three weeks: (1) standing in and walking through Kibera slums and wanting to get involved in God's work to the people and community there; (2) standing and looking out over the rim of the Great Rift Valley, being speechless, and yet wanting to worship God as Creator; (3) sitting in devotionals reading the Word and wanting to know Jesus as the Word and the Truth; (4) worshiping at a Catholic church in the Kodogocho slums and wanting to worship and know God with the kind of joy the Africans had in the American church; and (5) having two young girls looking up at me with their arms stretched wanting to be swung around by their hands (and seeing Jesus in their faces) and wanting to play with and love on children all day long. It goes without saying that standing with Jesus draws a movement of many natures; the danger is twofold - (1) not standing with Jesus and (2) not moving.
Lord help me to do both!
Sunday, July 29th: Church, Kivuli, Annita
On Sunday we were able to go to another Catholic church, the one George (the manager of Shalom House) goes to which is located on the other side of Nairobi in a slum called Kodogocho. The church was called Saint Daniels, named after St. Daniel Camboni, the saint who started the Camboni brothers to which Father Kizito is a part of. The church experience was great and my thoughts on the service will be described later in an entry on sermon notes. After church we went by Kivuli one last time where I gave my pictures to Kenny, the boy's mentor, guardian, and case manager. Then, after lunch at Shalom House we went back to Annita (the home for girls who were once street children/orphans) for a last time where I had a blast playing more soccer, playing on the playground, taking Polaroid pictures (though 80 of them were in the donations bag that never came I still had 25 which the girls loved), climbing more trees to get balls down, swinging Teresia and Dorcas around, and staying away from all the girls getting their nails done (I strongly dislike the smell) though complimenting them on the way they looked.
Sunday night we ate pizza again at the Italian Restaurant. I also shaved Sunday, preparing for my journey and arrival back to the States the following day.
Monday, July 30th: Tone La Maji; Departure
Because I am out of room in my journal notebook, I will make this entry short. After packing in the morning and watching some sweet documentaries on poverty made by our guides, we went back to Tone La Maji for a last time before driving to the airport. There I shot and shagged goal shots on the sweet soccer field, juggled the soccer ball with three others (including my friend Paul) on the side of a hill by the dining hall, ate chipote and beans with the boys in the dining hall, and learned that I look like John China, a famous professional wrestler the kids watch on their t.v. in their t.v. room - not what I'd prefer to be known as but I hear he is well respected and very successful.