The JustAndy Blog

Just in case you are still wondering why in the world I would want to live on a sailboat, this was my view when I woke up the other morning. The clouds resting atop of San Diego’s downtown buildings first captured my attention. The penetrating rays from the sunrise burnt through the clouds so that part of the buildings were illuminated and part hidden. When I awake it is common to see pelicans, cormorants or other sea birds around the boat. The other day a seal dove right beside me. This is my place with a view.

It all started three years ago when I flew from Alaska down to San Diego to visit both the city and Bethel Seminary for potential studies. Since I was carless, I rented a bike and took a 26 mile ride that took me all over the city. One of my destinations was Cabrillo National Monument where I got my first good overlook of the city, its layout and the beautiful San Diego Bay. On my way up to Cabrillo National Monument, I stopped at an overlook to gaze out at the ocean.

Meeting a middle-aged woman also taking a break from her ride, we struck up a conversation. When I asked her where she lived, she said that she lived on a sailboat and that it was one of the best things she had ever done. Being from the North, I ignorantly asked her what she did in the winter. She looked at me like I was crazy and answered “what winter?” It was that moment when I reached the realization that living on a boat and being on the water as much as possible was exactly how I wanted to spend my time in San Diego.

Having grown up sailing smaller boats, I was not entirely new to sailing but I knew very little about larger boats. Although living on a boat made it onto my list of life goals and into many conversations, I discovered that finding a boat and especially a place to keep one in San Diego, was much more difficult than I had anticipated. After several months I decided that I would delay the sailboat plans and perhaps try again after I finished seminary.

Two years later I received a call from a friend who knew about my desire to buy a sailboat. He told me that he had found a better deal on a sailboat than he had ever seen before and encouraged me to take a look at it. Not expecting much, I drove up to Long Beach and much to my surprise I loved both the boat and its price! A 27 foot Catalina, the boat was in remarkable shape for its age.

The first obstacle, however, was finding a place to keep the boat if I were to buy it. Most marinas in San Diego have a 2-3 year waiting list for live aboard slips. I called the San Diego Mooring Company and after telling me that it would be a 2-5 month waiting list, they discovered that they had an open mooring near downtown in the San Diego Bay. The other boats on their waiting list were to large for the spot so within a day of starting my search, I secured a mooring before I had even decided whether or not to buy the boat! Less than one month later, I acquired the boat and began living one of my many dreams!

I had the privilege of meeting my new little nephew Tristen, this week! My sister Rebekah gave birth to Tristen on Sunday, April 13th. He was 8 pounds 4 ounces and 21 inches long. Although we live half a country apart, it’s great to be able to see the little guy and talk with him over Skype! This picture is a screenshot that I captured during our first “conversation” together. I’m thrilled to be the proud uncle of two adorable nephews! Welcome to the family, Tristen!

I’ve been reading through the writings of the early Church fathers for an independent study that I am doing at Bethel Seminary. While reading through Clement’s Epistle to the Corinthians, I have been struck by how carefully he bases everything he writes on the Scriptures. His basic style is to make a statement of truth and then to spend the rest of the paragraph backing up his point with quotations from the Scriptures. It seems that we only preach and write about topics in our time, assuming that our readers and listeners know that what we are saying is scriptural. Perhaps we could learn from the early Church fathers’ emphasis on a basis and foundation for all things that are true.

I wrote an article about Sudan during my recent visit to this country. This article is featured today, July 30th, on the homepage of Helium.com under the Politics in Africa section. If you would like to read the article, click here and let me know what you think!

“For it hath pleased them of Macedonia and Achaia to make a certain contribution for the poor saints which are at Jerusalem.” (Romans 15:26)

The regions of Macedonia and Achaia, or modern-day Greece, were some of the most wealthy areas of the New Testament world. It is likely that many of the Gentile converts in these regions, as well as the Jews living there, were quite successful in the world of trade and business. The Christians in Israel, however, suffered under intense persecution. They lived in a society where leaving strict Judaism to convert to Christianity meant giving up your place as a citizen of society in good standing. The Christians in Jerusalem, in particular, suffered greatly at this time.

Learning of their Jewish brother’s sufferings, the believers in Greece decided to make a generous contribution to the church at Jerusalem. When the apostles and other traveling ministers brought news to them of Christians’ needs abroad, they opened their hearts and gave.

We have a similar situation today for in America we have more wealth than anywhere else in the world. Our Christian brothers and sisters abroad, however, suffer lack in many parts of the world. Somebody needs to travel like Paul did, seeing each situation first-hand and carrying word of the needs to the rest of the Church. Somebody also needs to be willing to give to the needs of those who are part of our own body, shared with Christ as the Head. Just like we would not ignore the needs of our own family, we must not turn away from the needs of our family in the Lord. At Mission Focus our desire is to bring not only the testimonies of the Church abroad, back to the West, but also the needs. We pray that God will open our own hearts and many others, to provide for His people.

When confronted with the needs of countless children suffering from AIDS, poverty and the death of parents, what can one do? Isn’t the need to large and overwhelming to address? Wouldn’t it require too much time, energy and resources to reach out to such a helpless multitude of little ones? Not according to Stephen and Beatrice Njau, founders of El Shaddai Children’s Home.

Over breakfast one morning, I overheard a conversation about orphans in Kenya. Inquiring further I met Mary and learned that she was volunteering at a children’s home. As she described the work of El Shaddai, it sounded like the kind of place that we would want to film. Touching base with Stephen over the phone, we scheduled a time to visit upon our return to Kenya.

Alighting in Githange, we grabbed a soda and then set off in the direction that the locals pointed us. Children’s clothing lined the fences and the sound of children playing gave the spot away. We were immediately surrounded by curious and excited little ones, all eager to get close and shake our hands. I was immediately struck by the beauty and joy of these wonderful little children. Stephen welcomed us warmly, leading us into a small room that served as a reception area. Over a cup of tea, he described to us how El Shaddai got started.

Back in 1998, Stephen and his wife, Beatrice, sensed a call from God to start a home for orphaned children. Being committed Christians, they both left their jobs and launched into full time ministry. Stephen served as a pastor for several years but the call to care for orphans remained on their hearts. In 2002, they finally left pastoral work and brought the first eleven children into their home in order to care for them. They have since moved into a larger facility that they rent to accommodate the 70 children under their care. With many more children in need of help, they hope to acquire land and build their own place to respond to the need.

As we talked, the three youngest children were brought in to see us. Mercy and Milcah were two adorable one year-old girls. Their little boy, Gibson, was only 11 months old and the youngest child at El Shaddai. The three of them adored Stephen and his wife, laughing at their games and soaking in the attention when they could sit on their laps.

Mercy’s father died of AIDS and while her mother was dying, she managed to arrange for her to go the Children’s Home. She died one month later, leaving precious little Mercy an orphan. Milcah was abandoned as a newborn and left outside overnight. She was nearly dead when she was discovered the following morning and taken to El Shaddai. Gibson’s parents have also died. All three of these precious children are infected with HIV and without the loving care that they receive from Stephen and Beatrice, they would likely be dead.

It was beautiful to see how this couple treated these three little ones like their own children. Stephen showed me how they fit each of the three babies into their bed with them so that they don’t wake the orphanage’s workers in the night. Their love for these children is apparent.

As I stepped outside with the camera, a crowd of children gathered around and began to sing songs for me. Beautiful songs of worship poured from their little hearts to the Lord. Others laughed and played with Ben by the playground. Older ones held the babies, caring for them like younger siblings. Others helped the workers to prepare food in the kitchen, stoking the wood fire under the stove. Grabbing their drums, several boys played for us while others giggled and danced for the cameras. Looking back over my shoulder, I spotted Stephen standing in a doorway, holding baby Gibson in his arms. He tickled him, playing baby games with little “Gibo” as they laughed together.

Leading me around their compound, Stephen showed me the kitchen, the well and the cow that had been donated to provide milk for the children. We could barely walk into he and his wife’s small bedroom because it was lined with children’s clothing that they had nowhere else to store. All of the seventy children stayed in a combined total of about five rooms. Although it is cramped, they do their best with the space that they have.

While many of the children lost their parents as a result of AIDS and suffer from the virus themselves, there was one whose story was particularly compelling. Faith is an adorable 5 year-old girl with a beautiful smile. As you take a closer look you begin to see unmistakable signs of physical abuse. Two of her front teeth have been ripped out, a small part of her ear is lopped off, and there are scars on her forehead and cheeks. Stephen told me that after her parents died, Faith’s relatives did not want to care for her. They wanted her to die as well so they abused and injured this precious little girl.

Faith came to El-Shaddai in desperate condition. She was not only HIV positive but also very sickly. With loving care and personal attention, her health began to improve. A year later, she was tested again for HIV and found negative. Now at age 5 she has again tested negative. There is no medical explanation for this change. God is doing more than one miracle in this little girl’s life.

As I took pictures of Faith and then held her in my arms for a few moments, I realized that Stephen and Beatrice have figured out what life is all about. Jesus said that the kingdom of heaven is like unto a little child. He enjoined us to bring children unto Him and declares a special reward for those who would do so little as to provide a drink of water for a child. Caring for orphans, He declares to be at the core of true religion. May we as a Church take special care not only to help children in need but also to assist those who are engaged in this vital work all around the world.

I just noticed that Paul emphasizes the importance of “one” six times in Romans 5. He repeatedly affirms that it was the offence of one many that caused sin and death to come upon all. Contrasting Adam’s failure with Christ’s perfection, he also states that it was the righteousness of one by which all receive life. As I reflect upon what I’ve experienced and what I’ve seen on this trip, one thing that I want to make sure that I do not forget is the power of one. Short of placing ourselves in the unique position of Christ or of Adam, there is a principle that one life carries unlimited potential, for better or for worse.

World history is replete with individuals whose use of power and position brought death to thousands. The death toll for Idi Amin’s dictatorship in Uganda was 250,000 people. Imagine this much death, over a period of a mere 8 years and in one of Africa’s smaller countries. History has shown that one man has the potential to bring death and destruction to multitudes.

The contrary is also true, however, for there individuals who through vision and compassion bring life to the people around them. Generally, you will find them alone, or perhaps in groups of two, and although many may admire their work, few will ever help them. It is a fact that is as equally true as it is sad that most people will only ever consider reaching out to help a world of needs all around them.

I don’t want to sound self-righteous because I need this reminder more than anyone else. Overwhelmed complacency too easily creeps in, leaving me debilitated and and devoid of a sense of urgency. Maybe one of the reasons that I love travel so much is that being confronted with the needs abroad face to face, is only the way to awaken my soul from its slumber.

I will never forget people like Stephen and Beatrice Njau, whose open hearts have saved the lives of destitute children and brought hope to the hopeless. It inspires me that 26-year old Nathanael had the vision and compassion to start caring for orphans suffering with AIDS, literally lifting them from the jaws of early death.

We only have one life to live. Why not spend it on what really matters? I’m tired of being preoccupied with the mundane and the material. I don’t want to live for myself. God’s greatest command is to love Him and to love others. Why is this so hard to remember? As Christians, our hearts ought to be the widest and most open of all to the needs of others. I hope and pray that that what I have seen and experienced on this trip will change my life forever.

While walking along one day, with my camera hanging from my shoulder, I was abruptly approached by a man who named Henry. Eyeing my camera, he asked if I was a journalist. As I described my work as a photographer and filmmaker, he asked if I would be willing to do a documentary for his organization in a rural town in Western Kenya. Pulling out his business card, I noticed that it targeted the needs of orphans and vulnerable children. Anybody working to help children is a friend of mine, so I sat down to talk with him further.

Hearing about the needs of his hometown community and learning that he was a dedicated Christian, motivated me to see what I could do to help. Due to our imminent departure for Uganda, I promised Henry that I would contact him before returning to Nairobi. Although he had met many philanthropic-minded people at the World Social Forum, he expressed his concern that good intentions would never turn into any real help for his people. This reality further prompted me to make sure to follow through, even though I knew so little about this man or his cause.

Our reportedly five-hour trip from Kampala to the tiny Kenyan town of Awasi, turned out to be more like 9 hours. By the time we arrived, it was well after dark. Along with Henry and his friend Richard, we embarked for the village on foot. Hiking several kilometers on a dirt path around sugar cane fields, we finally reached the village of Rakwaro.

Waking up on a mat sprawled out on the floor of a mud hut, was an awesome experience. We sat there in awe of where we were staying. Its one of those experiences that is hard to understand and hard to explain. We rarely have the opportunity to step so far outside of our own world to experience another. Tea, and the traditional samosa and mandazi gave us strength for the day. Samosa resembles a pastry and is stuffed with either vegetables, meat or a combination of the two. Mandazi is like a sweet roll, generally eaten with coffee or tea.

After breakfast, we began interviewing the group of people who gathered to talk to us. Vincent was an older man with an ear to ear smile. He enthusiastically explained how he had been working in the community to provide home-based care for people suffering with AIDS. He found out that he was infected several years but did not let it affect his efforts. He seems to value the fact that he can identify with the people and their fear of letting the community know about their health condition. He led us to his home and showed us the tiny little building where he works on getting much needed medical supplies to the community as reasonably as possible.

Retaining hope for the future but sad for the present, he showed us the little medical clinic that the government began to build before abandoning the project. The nearest medical help for the community is 45 kilometers away and for people who walk everywhere they go, this creates a significant problem. Its sad that year after year passes by with no assistance provided to build the simplest little clinic among an area with thousands of people who suffer from many varying diseases.

The others we interviewed were suffering from AIDS and frequently from resulting opportunistic infections. One gentleman described his suffering with tuberculosis and how the little medication he had been able to receive so far did not seem to help. Two different women described how after their husbands died, their extended families drove them away because they were infected with AIDS. Its sad that most likely they contracted the virus from their husbands in the first place.

We met a woman who had lost so much family that she had no one to care for her anymore. She continues to exist on the help that she is able to receive from the community. People seemed eager to tell us their story. It seemed that we were somehow a sign of hope to them that their situation could change for the better. We made sure to pray for each one after our interviews and to ask God to intervene and heal them.

We had to explain to Henry that he must not promise them anything from us but that the we would tell the story of this community to as many other people as possible. He responded by telling me that many of the people we interviewed had never publicly acknowledged their conditions before. He explained that us coming with our cameras motivated the people to open up in a way that he never could’ve done on his own. He thanked us and said that this was worth far more than any money that we could supply.

In between interviews, we visited the small local church. Henry explained how even with the complete lack of instruments, when the people lifted up their voices to God, He came down among them. These people truly worshiped with a fervency that was inspiring. As I took pictures of this amazing group of people gathered in the small hut, I was called up to preach to the people. I should have known that this was coming but God inspired me with some words to share with them about the solidarity of all believers in the body of Christ and God’s call to care for one another. I hope to model this message as I know that we need to care for each other, not only reaching out to Africa, but also in our own country.

Visiting an area like Rakwaro, opens one’s eyes to see how much people suffer in this world. It provided a small portrait of a people who are neglected by those whose avowed purpose is to serve them. Why should this village have to walk 5 kilometers, one way, to get water when a new well would cost them less than $15,000? The water problem alone has caused much sickness in the community. Why would this area go on without sufficient medical help for so long? This is not in the middle of nowhere… it is only 40 kilometers from Kisumu, the third largest city in Kenya. How many more villages in Kenya and around the world, does Rakwaro represent?

Taking advantage of a rare lull in our schedule, we took brief trip to Jinja. Famous for its location at the source of the Nile, Jinja is one of the most popular destinations in Uganda. We arrived at our hostel just in time to join a truck full of rafting guides out to a campsite overlooking Bujagali Falls and the Nile. Waking up the following morning, we stood amazed by our view. The camp’s hillside setting allowed a large scale view of this beautiful, historical and important river. Deciding that there was no way that I should miss an opportunity like this, I hired a guide and decided to go kayaking.

The water was surprisingly warm. Ibra, my guide, was about my age and a friendly guy. A brief refresher course got me going and soon I was moving into new kayaking territory. Learning the t-rescue is the first step in learning how to “roll.” Although I had already learned the “wet exit” or how to get out of a kayak when it tips over, the t-rescue was a new approach. While upside down and under the boat, you are supposed to run your hands along the side of your boat until you feel another kayak bump against your boat. Despite being upside down, you somehow keep oriented, push off the other boat and flick your hips, snapping yourself back above the water. Sounds easy, huh? Or not. It was surprisingly hard to orient myself to being upside down and breathing in water.

From there we launched off into the fun part of the trip. We started at the damn, just near the source of the Nile, where it meets Lake Victoria. Passing through intense rapids was quite a thrill. Exotic birds appeared along the shores, the water and on the Nile’s islands. Between rapids, Ibra and I carried great conversations. The sun shone brightly on us but a breeze kept the weather pleasant. The trip reinvigorated my interest in white water kayaking and I’m excited about more opportunities in the future. What better place to go kayaking than at the source of the Nile?