For one week in February, I had the most unbelievable opportunity to stay in Kitale, Kenya. We worked with some friends who have been rescuing children out of a slum in Western Kitale called Kipsongo. There is a school on the edge of this slum (The Seeds Academy) who brings in kids everyday, washes their clothes, feeds them and gives them an eduction. Each day the kids get a few hours of hope and good old fashioned hugs and kisses. Being at the school and delivering those hugs and kisses has changed my life. I expected this trip would open my eyes to a world I’ve only ever seen at arm’s length. And it did. Of course it did. But something else happened. To be around so much need (at first glance, so much hopelessness) and instead see only hope…to see only love…it broke me. I was the smallest part of the answer to their needs. Whether they needed me or not, I was there. And I felt like a fraud. I was overwhelmed with my own routine up until the moment I stepped off the plane. I barely even prepared my heart for what I was getting myself into. I never dreamed I’d be doing anything like this. Plucked off the ground in the blink of an eye and asked to inspire children with unimaginable pasts to “dream big” and “think about their future.” Kids riddled with sickness and disease. Bleeding, hurting, lost, abandoned, happy, hopeful, bright-eyed, adorable, smart, passionate kids. I dreamed with them. I cried with them. I let them in and now I can’t get them out of my mind. This wasn’t “that trip to Kenya in 2013.” This was “that trip that sparked everything else.” Now I just need to figure out what “everything else” is.

I have so much I want to share about the trip and the future of this project. I’m going to break my thoughts down into sections and edited journal entries so it’s easier to skip around. I’m sure some of these stories may seem a little naive or confusing. This is as much an exercise for me to get this experience into writing as it is to be able to share the stories with folks I don’t always see face to face. I wish I was a better writer. I wish this thing wasn’t riddled with incorrect grammar and hyperbole, but it is what it is. This is a long-winded journal. If you don’t make it through the whole thing, I don’t blame you! But I hope you get to see a little of what we experienced in Kenya. And why I can’t wait to return.