Monday, August 08, 2011

Who is You?

I recently came home from a trip to Nairobi Kenya, where a good friend of mine Ashby Rauch is trying to start a home and school for children living in the slums of a Nairobi suburb. While there, a friend and native Kenyan said a phrase that kind of stuck with me, the phrase was "who is you." Her and her husband liked how I said the phrase, and would say it to me often to get me to repeat it back.

Who is you? Who are you? Who am I? Who. Am. I....really

I am still processing so bare with me, I don't have it all figured out, I'm not a finished person yet, I am still becoming. But, becoming what? Who? Who is you?

I know who I don't want to be. I don't want to be someone who takes what I have for granted. I don't want to be someone that doesn't notice, or doesn't bother to be informed enough to notice others in pain. I don't want to be someone who notices others in pain and does nothing. I want to cause as little pain to others as possible.

I do want to be compassionate, and full of grace towards others, giving of myself, my talents, my time and my funds. I want to LOVE, really love. Love so much that it hurts. At times, I get to that place. The place where it hurts to love, but not on my own. Freida, a mother whom I met living in the slums of Ngong, was used to crushed my heart. God used Freida to change me. As my friend Christine interpreted what she was saying from Swahili to English I watched the tears roll down her face and as she wiped them away I was speechless. Her husband whom infected her with HIV, had essentially left her, and her two boys. She is so ill she can't work and She is extremely frail and looks as though she doesn't have the strength to even stand. After Freida told her story, Christine told her "God loves you," and Frieda, began to cry even harder, because Christine as an extension of God's love had offered her hope. HOPE. I then was honored to pray for Frieda, but my words were jumbled and stilted (my heart hadn't caught up with my mouth yet), but despite my inability to pray, God understood the words spilling over in my heart. I want to be a person who shares my hope with others. Freida showed me that I have more to offer than I've been offering. I have more than I could ever hope to have and then some.

I'm sure I will write more later, but perhaps you could ponder "Who is you?" a while, you may be surprised at the answer.

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