i decided to start this blog to tell some of the tales from my recent trip to kenya and to begin sorting through the lessons God worked into me.
the one story that always shakes me took place in a rural church. we were at least an hour away from a major city and the road was dirt (later in the day, it was mud that took us 2 hours to get 1/2 mile in 2 vans). we started the service around 10ish and everyone in the congregation participated somehow. many times, groups got up to sing – not scheduled, just felt lead, named a song, and began singing. people gave their testimonies praising God for His faithfulness. and then it came. the time to take the offering. i took some shillings out of my pocket that i had grabbed hastily as we left that morning. i placed them in the basket as it made its rounds. then, i looked up. i saw an old woman at least in her 70’s making her way to the front. she placed an egg, her egg, in the basket as her offering to her God. i still am not able to describe the emotion that ran over me as i experienced this. she gave all she had to God – the widow’s mite. my shillings meant nothing compared to the sacrifice she made. could i do that if i were her? am i that in love with my God?