Derailed

I walked out of the gate of my apartment today, greeting the daytime guard, Oscar, on my way out, as I munched on a treasured PayDay from a CWS visiting donor. Oscar is an old man, most likely a grandfather, and works diligently on washing cars or hauling water, and yet always has a smile to spare for me or any of the other residents. I do my best to reciprocate.

Just outside the gate, another old man greeted me and we shook hands. He immediately went into a story about a friend he took to Kenyatta Hospital, his hand clenched around mine in an earnest plea of help. I had no idea if he were telling the truth, and after looking into his eyes I decided I didn’t have the time to figure it out. I looked and turned away from his piercing gaze, mumbling, “I’m sorry, but I can’t help.” I walked on, munching on my PayDay.

It was then I noticed all of the traffic on our local road. By the time I reached the main highway and saw the standstill traffic, I knew something was terribly wrong. When I arrived at work, Mary and other coworkers informed me of a horrific accident involving a lorry and 15 cars. Many people had died, and many more were injured.

What was this man trying to tell me? I wondered. Was there truth in his request? Did he have no where else to turn? Did it matter that I had never seen him in my life?

Now, all I can say is a prayer, writing about it and trusting that somehow in some way, Christ will bring healing to those who have felt so much pain today, both here in Kenya and elsewhere.