Inside this one room home lived a mother and four children. We all jammed into the small area which contained beds and a fire and a small sitting – living room area. The Pastor had a prayer and a scripture reading. I think he said that it was Psalm 123 – “I lift up my eyes to you, to you who sit enthroned in heaven. 2 As the eyes of slaves look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a female slave look to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he shows us his mercy.” I am not sure if that was the text or not but it would have been appropriate.
The lady of the house gave a testimonial about how God helps her and her children get by every day. The deaconess gave some food and supplies for the home. I offered up a prayer and we left.
When I shut my eyes in the evening I can almost smell the acrid wood fire that was burning in the corner. I can see the little girl in a pink shift that was torn in several places and I can see the gleam of the watery eyes of a little puppy that peered in at us from outside in the bright equatorial sun.
It is a home – not a place where I would choose to live, but it is a home. I hope they are safe and I pray that the home visits continue and that they all keep on “lifting up their eyes to the one enthroned in heaven”.
This sure brought back memories for me as well. The heat and the closeness of the air as we all sat in prayer, listening to Pastor Joseph deliver his devotion in Kiswahili.