Provision in the Wild and the City: What Kenya Taught Me
On a recent trip to Kenya, I spent time in both Nairobi and Kisumu—two places marked by breathtaking beauty and heartbreaking need. Our team visited orphanages, schools, churches, and the streets where children sniff glue to survive. We came to listen, learn, and serve wherever the Spirit led.
But as the week unfolded, I found myself overwhelmed by the weight of need.
Where Is God in the Brokenness?
I remember visiting a family near the school and orphanage in Kisumu. One woman, mentally disabled and repeatedly abused by men in the community, had become pregnant multiple times. Her inability to care for her children led to devastating outcomes. One of her daughters, now in the orphanage, is receiving love and support—but the trauma lingers.
My heart could not reconcile the tragedy.
And yet, I reminded myself: God is sovereign—even here.
Provision Amid Desperation
Everywhere we turned, the needs were great:
Children addicted to sniffing glue
Lack of basic healthcare
Schools with limited supplies
Orphans with uncertain futures
But alongside these harsh realities, I saw hope:
Local leaders, tirelessly pouring out their lives to rescue street kids.
Teachers committed to building up the next generation.
A community of believers being the hands and feet of Christ.
Creation, Provision, and the Masai Mara
At the end of the week, we visited the Masai Mara National Reserve—a stunning expanse of wildlife and wonder. I watched lions feast, vultures clean what was left, and wildebeest migrate with rhythmic precision. Nothing wasted. Nothing random. God’s creation pulsed with purpose.
As I reflected on Job 38, I was struck by this verse:
“Do you hunt the prey for the lioness and satisfy the hunger of the lions?”
“Who provides food for the raven when its young cry out to God?”
There, in the stillness of the Masai Mara, I was reminded:
God provides. Always. Even when I can’t understand how.
I Am the Means, Not the Source
I wrestled with this: If God provides so richly in the wild, why do the children lack food, safety, and support?
Then I realized—we are His means of provision.
Just as He feeds lions with wildebeest, He uses us to serve and supply the needs of others.
But when I cling to my comfort, I block the flow of His provision.
To be God’s instrument, I must open my hands. Let go of control. Let go of self-protection.
This is not easy. This is not safe. But it is holy.
A Final Prayer
In the end, I rest in this:
God provides for all His creation. Whether through me or someone else, He is faithful.
My prayer?
That I will live with open hands and a surrendered heart. That I will not hold back what He has entrusted to me.
That when I leave this world, it will be empty of what I was meant to give away.
