Do we truly believe?

The past few days have been overwhelming.  I find myself glued to any news I can find.  Scanning through news pictures searching for a glimpse of a familiar face, wanting assurance they are okay.  We’ve now gotten confirmation from all but 3 of the kids that they are safe and well.  And I’ve spoken to many friends on the phone and been able to confirm their safety and mutual friends’ safety.  And yet my stomach is in knots. 

These people have become my family.  The kids are so much a part of who I am now.  They have been entrusted to us by God — we have become their family.  So I sit here wondering how I am to react to this.  I pass on information and ask others to pray and pray constantly for them but in the face of the violence, unrest and madness it doesn’t seem like enough.  In my western mind set I want to be able to SEE results.  I want to be able to fix the situation.  To somehow be able to get them the food, safety and peace they so much need.  I want to guard the kids from seeing, experiencing and hearing things that will rob them of their already warped childhoods.  But I realize that this says more about me than I realize. 

I say that I know God is in control, but I can’t sleep.  I say that I know God will provide for them, but I worry non-stop.  I say that I know God will protect them, but I want to hear their voices and be assured that they are okay?   Jesus told Thomas “Blessed are those who have NOT seen and yet have believed.” I need THAT faith!

I find it ironic when people treat missionaries as if they are more spiritual or have it all together.  The reality is I have learned more about faith from the people who live in Kibera than I will ever teach anyone.  Why is it so hard for me to go from heart knowledge of the truth of the promises God has given us to living out those truths in my daily life?  I miss the times when I could go into a church and just be Denise, warts and all, and not have the title “missionary” warp people’s perception of me.  I don’t have it all together.  I screw up so much I have decided that God chose to use me because then there would be no question as to who was running the show – I just have to work to keep out of His way.  The people in Kibera have so much to teach about what walking out faith really looks like.  When I call pastors in the middle of what is essentially a war zone and all they can say is “The Lord is taking over” it confirms that I have so far to go.

Father, forgive my for my failure to believe You are who You say You are!  I know you are at work in Kenya and are right beside each child and adult I have come to love in Kenya.  I know that You love them more than me and that Your heart breaks for the violence that is taking place.  Father, restor peace and calm and bring glory to your name through all of this.  Draw each one of our friends closer to You during this time.  May they learn great things from You and may Kenya forever be changed to be a country marked by Your hand.