City Centre Nairobi, Kenya

I’d like for you to meet a new friend of mine. Her name is Rizpah. I’m not sure exactly how old she is, but I’d guess around 18.

Rizpah has a three-year-old son named Michael. He’s the result of rape. It’s normal for girls that live on the street to be raped many times. I met Rizpah when I went with my friend, Sandy – a fellow International Mission Board missionary living in Nairobi – to work with her street kids.

We have to go really early in the morning - before shops open up downtown and before the kids get high on glue. Sandy and her Kenyan Baptist partner, Boniface (who was once a street kid himself), teach Bible stories to the kids, which range in age from two to 20. They also give them milk and administer first-aid.

One morning, Rizpah showed up at Bible study without her son. She said he was still sleeping. She offered to take Sandy and I with her to wake him up. I had never been down this back alley way where most of the kids sleep. We waded through trash that came up about mid-calf to me. Sandy told me Michael was born in this alley way – in the midst of all this trash.

As we walked, Rizpah put her arm around me and smiled. Man, she smelled worse than terrible but it was one of the nicest walks I've had in a long time. Even though I'm not a "touchy" person, I knew she just needed a loving touch -- so I put my arm around her, too.

We stopped in front of a big pile of cardboard and plastic bags, barely distinguishable from the other trash heaps. Rizpah rustled it with her foot, when out pops this little head with sleepy eyes. When Michael saw Sandy, he broke into a HUGE grin and reached his grubby little arms up at her. Once in Sandy's arms, he gave her a big, wet, sticky, smelly kiss. Sandy didn't notice the smell or dirt -- she just loved right back on him.

Michael walked barefoot through the streets of Nairobi. I stuck some shoes Sandy bought on his feet and showed him they were Spiderman light-up shoes. He was tickled about the light. After I taught him how to make the light go, he walked around in circles - leaning over to one side so he could see the lights flash. Every once in a while, he’d stop to jump up and down to celebrate having cool shoes and then he’d notice the lights flashing again and returned to walking in circles.

Grocery Store, Kenya

The strangest thing happened to me Saturday, the day before Easter. Well, I guess I shouldn’t think of it as strange as much as an opportunity to share my faith – even when I was trying to avoid it.

I came home from West Africa Saturday morning. I had absolutely no groceries, so I went to the store. Once there, I grab the cart, smile at the workers and start rolling down the aisle. I’m in a hurry because I’m so exhausted from an all night flight across the width of the African continent. I plan to get the basics and then head home to bed.

I’m heading to get bread when I hear two men in another aisle talking about “this strange Easter holiday.” I make a mental note to avoid that aisle because I’m too tired to even think about having a “spiritual” discussion.

I skillfully avoid the two men as I head to find some milk. Their voices seem to follow me. I roll the cart down another aisle – one that was much farther away from the men trying to understand Easter. Again, their voices follow me – only this time, they sound even closer. “Oh no,” I think to myself. “Please God, don't make me - I’m too tired.”

Sitting on Coke crates at the end of that aisle are two Kenyan men in their 20s. As I was about to pass, one looks up at me and says, “You know about Easter and about this Jesus who was crucified. Will you sit here and explain it to us? I really need to know about this great sacrifice today!”

Having gone about 30 hours without sleep, I wanted to keep rolling past them. I was too tired and didn’t have time. BUT, obviously, God had other plans on how I needed to spend my Saturday morning – so, I plop down on an empty coke crate next to them and start telling them the story of Jesus and Easter.

Celebrate with me in having two new brothers enter the Kingdom this Easter season.

Sometimes I’m totally amazed at how God can use me – bad, selfish attitude and all – to reach the nations with His Word. The good thing to know is that God uses ordinary people just like you and me.

Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire

Just got back from hanging out in West Africa. Man -- I've really missed being in West Africa. The people are so friendly, loud and are always quick with a joke and smile.

I went for a meeting. I had a blast getting to know three ladies working on the West Africa regional media team - Emily, Mary Beth, and Jesse. I went to Abidjan to learn more about the new things West Africa is doing as far as mission work, as well as figure out a way to work more closely with these ladies. Mary Beth talked me into doing a mini writers' workshop, while she taught some stuff on the computer.

I also had time to eat lunch with some old West Africa missionary friends. It was fun catching up and just being in West Africa. It was my first trip to West Africa in two years -- I've spent most of my time this year in Central and Eastern Europe.