Millicent

Tonight as I sit in my tent, warm and dry, listening to the soft patter of rainfall on the tent roof, Millicent and many like her lie curled up on a cement floor dying with no blanket, pillow – alone and rejected.

Millicent’s husband died of HIV/AIDS related infections.  Millicent is HIV+ also.  She traveled to her husband’s home with her two small children, ages 6 and 3, only to be rejected. She traveled to Nakuru to the slums to eke out some sort of living for herself and her children before the virus took her away from them.

The slums are not an easy place for an HIV+ person. It was not long before opportunistic infections raged. In stepped Benard. This Kenyan has dedicated his life to HIV/AIDS victims. He built a support group, and helps in any way he can by visiting, transporting people to the hospital, bringing food and blankets and other necessities when possible. He found Millicent on her mattress unable to function. The 6-year-old boy was out begging and stealing food for himself, Mom and his younger sister. These two small children were attempting to care for all their Mom’s needs.

Benard , fearing for the Mom and the children. Thieves of any age are beaten and killed. Young girls of any age are raped and abandoned. Millicent was in obvious need of medical care. Millicent is taken to the hospital where they being tests and medication.

Benard located a widow with 4 of her own children in her one room home and convinces her to accept the other two children while the Mother is ill. I hear the story and am moved to help these children with some food.  Two young children in the USA had saved their pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters in a bank and gave those funds to me before I left to feed children. I also mentioned the possibility of the children joining JWHS.

Fast Forward a week or two. …. The hospital determines that Millicent has no money and will probably not recover.  They discharge her and use her much needed bed for a patient who will recover.  Millicent has nowhere to go.  She cannot pay her bill; the landlord reclaimed her house. She is desperately ill, has no food, no bed, and no blanket. She moves herself to the grass courtyard of the hospital during the day to sit in the sunshine and be warmed. Then at night she slips into the ward to sleep curled up in a corner on the floor waiting to die.  Her body will be taken to the public mortuary to be buried with the other paupers.

Millicent is one of the lucky ones as she has Benard and the support group to bring her milk to drink and soothe her thrush-ridden mouth.

I fought being drawn into the family. I longed to remain at arms distance so I would not have to see, would not have to feel.

But here I am trying to bring you in with me. Trying to help you see and feel this reality of life in Kenya; this reality of poverty and disease.

My heart hurts and rages – can there be nowhere a poor person can find dignity in death?  Where a person can feel love and concern and value and peace as they leave the earth - a bed, a blanket, a sip of milk to cool the ulcerated mouth and coat the empty stomach?

It is easy for me to say this is not my mission, this is not my calling, but whose calling is it?  For less than $200.00 per month, a simple room could be rented, furnished, stocked and staffed for one suffering human being. For less than $1,000 per month a house could be rented, furnished, stocked and staffed to care for up to half dozen of these rejected human beings where they could find a few months of love and peace before they face their eternity.

I am reminded of the story of a man named Lazarus. Lazarus was a beggar in life. He came to a rich man’s gate full of sores and desiring to be fed the crumbs from the rich man’s table but was refused.  The beggar died and was carried by the angels to heaven. The rich man also died and in hell he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham with Lazarus . He cried “Abraham, have mercy on me and send Lazarus to dip his finger in water and cool my tongue.”

Abraham said,” Remember in life you received fine things and Lazarus evil things. Now he is comforted and you are tormented. But besides this, there is a great chasm between us so no one may pass…..”

There are so many needs in this world, real and perceived. So many it is often overwhelming and we harden our hearts so not to feel the brokenness around us. But we are meant to be broken by the things that break the heart of God.

I hope that if you have read this far you will allow your heart to open to see, to feel to break to see Lazarus begging for crumbs from the table; to see mother and fatherless children hoping for life and love; to see Millicent curled up on the cold cement.

May this story first bring a deep sense of gratitude; “But for the Grace of God go you or I”.

Then secondly, may this story stir you TO DO.  Do open your eyes and heart to see the pain around you. Do give thanks for what you have. Do pray to see your role in the lives of the lonely, desperate, despairing, hungry or dying in this world . Do – DO something – the smallest act is never too little.

To read of some of the things Expanding Opportunities does, please visit www.exop.org or find our FACEBOOK page at www.facebook.com/ExpandingOpportunities

Happy Thanksgiving

A Thanksgiving Message from Kenya -- One of "OUR BOYS" at the Joseph Waweru Home School sent this email...
Hi Bev First i miss you alot. Secondly thanks alot for the far you helped me reach. I may not be able to express my joy but let say thank you very very much.May God see what you have done in my life the far we have come.The road to success is paved with alot of challenges but we need not quit coz winners and determined people never give up...I Love to be in this organization despite the challenges it faces but i believe it serve as a turning point for people like me....Pass my greetings to all the well wishers who have been helping us both financially and even spiritually by there prayers.We thank alot the help they have been offering to us.May God bless them as they sacrifice so that we may we get what we couldn't be able to get. Blessed are who remember the needy.Blessed are your families and your hearts.

What a wonderful way to create a Happy Thanksgiving!

2010 WISH LIST

Many people ask us what we need in Kenya. The joy of donors to clean out their closets or shop for items to bless children in Kenya is admirable and the list of wants is always endless. Though luggage is limited, we carry all that is allowable.
This year I asked our staff to prioritize their wish list of items they would like us to carry to Kenya in January.

Just in from Cate in Kenya at the Joseph Waweru Home School:
Home shoes, school shoes, book bags-back packs, warm jackets/sweaters, work gloves, aprons, shorts, home trousers, T-shirts, socks, medical supplies-deworming tabs, first aid kit, piritons,(I have a question in about this one.),hand sanitizers, kitchen supplies-jikos, hot pots, pot holders, hard sufurias (not sure what these are), covers, wooden cook spoons, pencils, pens, rubbers(erasers), paper, hats-warm ones,
Ohh,how can we forget about good old Cate? She wants Dental floss, CD player,wall hooks (glue on) ,Manchester united jersey or scarf ( a soccer team).
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Bev's additions to the wish list to carry - shake, solar, wind up or battery flashlights, Bibles, children's books, plumbing snake,
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Peter's list will be along soon.

If you want to donate any of these things for us to carry, please get them to
Expanding Opportunities
84 Payson Road
Brooks, Maine 04921
before the end of December, 2010 and we will carry as much as we are able.

THANK YOU -- BLESS YOU --

The Real Kenya by Katy Corcoran

This Blog is actually a reflection by a traveler on a recent Missions Trip to Kisumu, Kenya. It was shared by my friends Wayne and Mary Lynne\ McLemore and shared with you by permission of Katy. The words in BOLd are my accent.
The Real Kenya by Katy Corcoran

I have two experiences that I want to share with you. They are very different experiences, but both are very real. I believe it is important for people’s eyes to be opened (as mine were) to the reality of the living conditions of and people in Kisumu, Kenya.(many other places in Kenya as well)
Poverty. On Monday, our team hosted the first pastor’s conference of the week at Pastor Joshua’s church. We started out the morning, as usual, with children arriving to the conference several hours before it was to begin. They were so anxious and excited to hear our stories about Jesus, sing songs, play games, etc. The morning was quite normal. Katie, Jandy and I taught the children “The joy of the Lord is my strength. Nehemiah 8:10” and two new songs, “I’m in the Lord’s Army” and “God is so Good” with hand motions. Larry told the children the story about the four friends who cut a hole in the roof so that their friend could see Jesus. The children also taught us several new songs and games. We let the children have some free time to play soccer, football, or Frisbee. Then, it was time for lunch. The children in line began pushing and shoving to be the first for lunch. We settled the children down and began to serve them lunch. Then the team members went to eat their lunch. As we were finishing lunch, we saw some children by the fence. There had been leftovers and one of the boys had obtained a plate. Five boys began fiercely grabbing for the food on the plate. They shoveled hands full of rice in their mouth at a time. Then they began tussling over a water bottle that a church member had given one of the boys. I was witnessing the effects of true hunger and poverty at that moment. They had pushed and shoved to be first in line because they wanted to make sure they received food. They shoveled hands full of rice in their mouths because some of them had no idea when they would eat next. They fought over the water bottle because they do not have clean drinking water or containers to collect water. I will never forget that scene. I wanted to tell that story because it is the reality of the poverty in Kisumu. The houses and shops are mud and stick walls with dirt floors. There is no running water. Most people do not have electricity. Their clothes and shoes are tattered and torn. There are few jobs. There is little money. There is very little food. That is their reality.
Love and Jesus. I was overwhelmed every day by the outpouring of love from the Kenyan people, and how they loved to talk about Jesus. Saturday, Mary Lynn and Wayne hosted a luncheon for the Kenyan pastors and our team. Each of the pastors greeted us with a handshake, smile, and hug. I sensed these pastors truly and honestly loved each one of our team members, although we had just met. We showed the Jesus’ film on Saturday night. The members of Pastor Joshua’s church all greeted us with hugs, handshakes, kisses, and smiles. Every adult we met at each of the pastor’s conferences was the same. They would go out of their way to make us feel welcomed and loved. Each child would want us to shake his/her hand. The children wanted us to hug them and hold their hand while we sang. They wanted to sit in our laps. The children didn’t know us, and I could sense that they loved us. This happened the entire week that our team was in Kisumu with everyone we met. I realized that they loved us and showed love to us because we are their brothers and sisters in Christ. I was challenged to show my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ unconditional love and support as I was shown in Kenya. Also, they were all excited to talk to us about Jesus. The children would ask us to tell them Bible stories during their free time. They would cheerfully recite their memory verses and perform songs for us. The adults would inquire about our salvation experience: how old were we, what church, how our life was changed, any challenges. They would share all of this information with us also. They would ask us how God has blessed our lives. They would share earnestly how God has blessed their lives. They would share about hardships and how God overcame them. They would ask about our church in America and tell us they would be praying for us. And they would ask us to pray for them and their church. Through all of the conversations and experiences I had, I was challenged to speak more openly about Jesus and my relationship with Him.
Of course, there are countless other experiences I could share, and it was difficult to narrow down. But I know that I am a different person because of my trip. Prayerfully, I touched at least one life while I was in Kenya. And I strive to touch many other lives at home…

Gotta get it OUT!

Gotta Get It OUT!
There is a frustration that builds in a volunteer in Africa. Sometimes it just has to come out.
It may not be the rational response; it may not indicate time for a change but it is raw emotion - so here it is.
Gotta Get it Out!
By Nobody who is Somebody like Anybody else and who happens to be from USA.
I need to write but don't know the beginning. Maybe there is no beginning or maybe the beginning is too far away.
Why am I here? The simple answer, Because God told me to and until He tells me differently, I stay. But have I already overstayed? Am I too cold and hurt and jaded to stay?
Four thousand Kenya Shillings, 4,000/=, to do the job you are paid to do. " Madam, it is your skin color". To be a member of the race that caused hurt and pain to many; the race that held the power for so long, carries with it a discrimination of its own. Deep hurts long carried and ingrained in culture.
I am bringing food to YOUR orphans, yet you cannot provide a vehicle, security, or accommodation, three things that cost you very little in terms of funds. I did not colonize you- no one living today did. I did not take your land or water or cows and goats. You hold your hand out to me but it is your own people who enslave you - stealing money from you and squandering it on themselves while I carry food to your orphans. It is my pleasure. No one told me to - no one even asked me to. So why should I have expectations? So why does it bother me that you do not help? Why does it hurt so much?
Does hurting me because of my skin color make up for the centuries of hurt by others? Can we not join hands to make a difference? Why is the only time the hand is out is to obtain personal gain?
My passionate hurt of last night is spent. One more cut to the human heart. One more peek into the heart of others.
It is good to see into the heart and soul of others; to be vulnerable enough for them to see mine. How else will we overcome the collective hurts to heal the cavernous scars of history? - To rise above - The other option is to retain the pain, to harden to the call of God who seeks us to love one another and move beyond to even love our enemies.
The trigger of anger; "where there is anger look for the hurt". Where I read that I don't remember but it sank deep into my soul. As the anger rises and bubbles out, I seek the hurt.
Am I obligated to give to you? Is there never to be a partnership or a gratitude to those who gave, those who have never been here, those who do not know you but still give so you might have. A partnership, not servitude meant to lift one above another but sincerity, a genuine appreciation of effort. Will color always be a barrier? Is trust an impossibility?
Should I go home and give up? Even some of the boys to whom I have poured my energy here have no heart for giving back.
There it is, the point of hurt. I knew I found it when the tears fell. It is not a thank you I seek. It is the creation of hearts to carry on. The hope of nurturing hearts that love that are tender to suffering, that respond to the loving image of God within them and not the cursed greed and selfishness of the fallen man. In that, I have failed.
My energies as useless as used tissue paper; simply useless to create change, useless to touch hearts, useless to join hands. My life wasted according to me.

My heart fights the hardness and mistrust with every handshake. My heart fights the emotional distance that comes when my mind seeks motives. The anger that rises when the hand is out to be filled with money as if that is the only thing God created me for. It is not a hand of fellowship but a hand of entitlement; occasionally a hand of hope but usually one of demand.
According to me, at times I have rejected and neglected my own family for people with no gratitude, no desire but to fill their own selfish wishes with an attitude of entitlement. To find the sincere is as seeking the rare blue butterfly. And yet, THEY ARE THERE - Those who care, who give, who create and give love - THEY ARE THERE. I have met them. I have hired them. The one coin lost is sought and found.
If my life in Africa is to touch just ONE; if the entire purpose of my life, my effort, my calling is to never be seen by me, - Am I content to do my job?

Lord, may it be so.

Forgotten People

Northern Kenya is a land of vast expanses of dry acacia bush, and dusty clay, with a rugged, mountainous rocky backdrop. Hidden in its seemingly deserted and wild immensity lie many small villages, a thousand or so people in each living in small mud houses; living close to the land; in harmony and agony with the forces of nature. They are pastoralists, no longer roaming the length and breath of Africa but confined to smaller and drier spaces. In many cases they are a forgotten people. The road to their land is a crumbling hint at days long gone when there was a tar road. Now there is a small twisted and pitted path of tar in the middle of the road, more treacherous to traverse than the dirt trucking trails along the sides but beware of the deep erosion that can catapult you down the side of the mountain to be found in pieces at the bottom of the ravine.

But let us return to the people. In most areas of Kenya, you see signs of development. Buildings being built or repaired, roads being repaired and constructed, houses, people, vehicles. But in some areas, the people gather in the main building of the village, the church. Dressed in a mix of western second hand clothes or more traditional kanga and blanket, they laugh and sing and chat and cry. They are drawn close for protection, drawn close for support. The effects of global warming have reached those whose lives for centuries have been close to the land and in harmony with it. Now they suffer.

Most seek hope in their young people, in education. But where are the school? These forgotten people have little or no access to education. They are proud of the school the Red Cross came to build and struggle to find the funds to send their child to school.

“Madam, this boy would like to speak to you”. He is 13 and in Class 5. His English is perfect. Please help me, my mother is going to take me from school to help with the younger children. Top in his class and performing better than many in more developed schools, he desires education.

Primary children walk at least 6 kilometers one way to go to school each day! Lucky to make it through Class 8, your hope
dies. After Class 8 there is nowhere to go. The closest high school is 23 kilometers away! The cows and goats need to be grazed for survival. The cost of transportation and boarding school fees is beyond the means of most. The economy is in goats.

In some areas, the government Community Development Funds are active. Schools, dispensaries, and roads are being constructed and large signboards announcing the construction through CDF Funds and the constituency. In other areas live the forgotten people. Many of those who have traveled beyond their village, return to state, “We do not live in Kenya”.

The reasons for forgotten people are many: sensitive, political and remote but a key to the solution lies in education. A literate population is an empowered population. As global warming, country boundaries, governmental regulations, and even tourism have forced them to enter the larger world, so they need the tools to defend, protect and control their village. Education will allow their lifestyle choices to be theirs.

If you would like more information or to help contact us.
www.expandingopportunities.org -- info@expandingopportunities.org

Help Me Buy a uniform so I can Go to School

Greetings,

January is the beginning of school in Kenya. Though Kenya schools are now tuition free, they are not fee free. In addition to fees, children must have uniforms to attend school.

Approximately $50.00 will purchase a full uniform for child.

I will be in Kenya in January. When I am there many children and parents ask me if I can help them buy a uniform so they can go to school.
As most of the funds are dedicated, there is precious little I can do for them.

If you would like to help a child attend school, please consider donating.

You may donate by clicking on the button below, clicking on the uniform donation button at www.exop.org, call 1-888-760-7943, email info@expandingopportunities.org, or mail Expanding Opportunities, 84 Payson Road, Brooks, ME 04921

Your gift will be appreciated even after it is worn out and outgrown.