Sacred (Slum) Ground

Kibera. Approximately 1 square mile of decrepit shacks and rusted tin roofs. Uneven muddied alley ways. Garbage so common you eventual stop realizing all but the biggest trash heaps. Air that is noticeably polluted in every breath and paired with the scent of feces and decaying “compost.” Not to mention the crowd of people that may number as high as 1.5 million. Kibera is a quarter of the size of Hopkins, MN with the population of a combined Minneapolis and St. Paul. In such a place you would expect to find hopeless people who have given up on life. I cannot speak to the outlook of the average person in Kibera, but the children I met had joy abounding and smiles that shook my expectations.

Sacred Blessings ministry brought children from one section of Kibera to a “school” yard where they are taught about Jesus and encouraged to read and memorize scripture every Saturday. It just so happened that the day we showed up was the day that Bibles were being handed out to the children who were at least seven years old. For many of these kids the Bible we gave to them will be the only book in their entire home. And once that Bible hit many of their hands they immediately began to read their favorite memory verses in their first ever, very own Bible.

I have never seen a child so eagerly receive the word of God. True, I have seen children happily receive their first Bible, but I believe most of them were simply happy to get a present. Here, in Kibera, I felt as though they were truly joyful to receive what laid between the covers of the slim, leather bound NIV each one received.

But soon their attention was captured by something else. Something that sought to immediately relieve them from a pain that too often cripples many children in Kibera. The smell of porridge and the lunch call sung by the cook brought a line of children; mug in hand, to receive what may be their only meal of the day.

Truly I did very little. The work of those who are dedicated to ministering to children in Kibera both physically and spiritually, through the power of the Holy Spirit, are the heroes of Nairobi. And for me to be able to witness the nourishment of both body and soul of children from infanthood to their mid-teenage years was a sacred and blessed gift. I had seen the joy that the written word of God brought, but now I was able to witness the joy of the lived out word of God. The gospel that reaches out from the pages of Scripture and enables ordinary men to live their lives in extraordinary ways.

The pastor of Sacred Blessings ministry told us that he saw God in Pat, Lauren and I. How funny a thought. For I know that the moment we stepped onto that Sacred Ground: it was I who was entering into the presence of God.

Royce Pavelka