Sometimes I don’t have the words to express how God has changed me. Sometimes I don’t have the words to explain what I have seen. Sometimes I don’t have the depth to tell you all that God has done in the lives of the people we were around. So all I can do… is pray. As you read my prayer, make it your prayer as well and let us lift up the people of the Pokat tribe and the Amaya village together.
Dear Precious Jesus,
Oh Lord, as I write and pray, so many images of the past two weeks flood my mind. I see the house we called home for two weeks. I see the beautiful mountains that surrounded us. I see the night and the stars that your hand put into place. I see the 15 children in my classroom and their eyes as they grasp a new concept or have an idea of their own. I see the drunkard man, Samuel, as he sat on the porch and tried to wrap his mind around your great Love. I see the 14 women squeezed into one hut listening to the story of Paul being told. Oh Lord, I hear so many sounds that will forever fill my memory. I hear the banging of the wind upon the metal roofs. I hear the cry of the babies during church and their teenage mothers whispering to them. I hear the camels and sheep and the small children running behind slapping them on their rears. I hear the zipping and unzipping of tents and the hushed tones of Mama Margaret and Vicky and Ann as they prepare our breakfast. And Lord, I smell so many smells that will forever remind me of our time in Amaya. I smell the dirt and body odor caked on to every person. I smell the smoke from inside the huts while they warmed chai and corn for me. I smell the rain as it poured after we prayed for you to make it rain. I smell the urine-soaked baby blankets as I cradled the babies in my arms. I smell the gasoline from the 1980 Land Rover we drove up the mountain for the women’s seminar.
Lord, as my senses are reminding me of our time with the Pokat people, my prayer is that their senses are reminding them of your outstanding love. We are told to taste and see that you are good and I pray that the Pokat people would taste and see just how good you are. I pray that their nostrils constantly smell an aroma of you that we were able to leave behind.
Abba, we have prayed for you to break our hearts for what breaks yours, and I know our hearts have been completely broken for the wayward life of the Pokat people. They are so bound by their culture and traditions. Lord, we pray that you break every chain; I say it again, break every chain. Break the chains of tradition that cause the women to be mutilated or “circumcised” before they are married. Break the chains of culture that says girls can be married off at the age of eleven. Break the chains of sexual desires in the men as old men marry young girls as second, third, or fourth wives. Break the chains of alcoholism that create laziness and idleness in the men. Break the chains of poverty that keep children from education. Break the chains of idolatry that makes them believe they only way to be “clean” is to have the blood of a sacrificed animal sprinkled on their bodies. YOU ARE THE SACRIFICE! Jesus, let them know and see that you are our sacrifice. Your blood can cover them because you are the perfect Lamb.
And Daddy, we continue to lift up our sister Laura, and the pain she is feeling from losing her sister. We know her sister is having a party with you right now, but earthly pain can still be great. So we ask, Father, that you be Laura’s comfort. Let her and her family constantly feel your arms wrapped around them. Let them know your love and that you make all things work together for our good and your glory.
I pray for the seven children in my class who accepted you last week, and the other eleven from the rest of the school who chose to follow you, Jesus. Thank you for calling them, for saving them. Now Lord, I pray you make them into men and women after your own heart. Make them a generation rising up who will say, “No! The way men treat women is not biblical. No! Alcohol is not the way to escape this world or solve our problems. No! I will not give in to sexual temptation or lust by partnering with another woman. No! I will not give up my education in order to make my father and mother happy.” Let them be a completely new generation.
Amaya is claimed, Lord! In your name we have claimed that land for your Kingdom and your glory. You will continue to do amazing things. Reach down your hand, grasp hold of the chains, and completely break them and tear them away from Kenya.
Thank you for your healing, your protection, and your love. Thank you for daily teaching us that your love never fails, it never gives up, and it never runs out. Thank you for teaching us more and more the depth of your love. Help us to one day truly grasp how deep, how wide, and how long your love is.
We love you, God. Oh we love you. Our lips shall repeat those words over and over as our heart cries out again and again, “We love you!” We love you!
In the Precious Name of your One and Only Son, Jesus, Amen.
This blog post first appeared on Adventures In Missions blog forum in October of 2012 while I was on a semester-long mission trip to Kenya, Africa.
From Bible studies to blogs, articles to musings of the heart, Kendra's writings are unbarred and raw - exactly how she speaks.