I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart who encouraged and inspired me to find my heart again. Your support has been a huge blessing and will never be forgotten. You challenged me to press on and I answered that call. My will to keep going apparently isn't in line with God's will.
I don't want to beat around the bush, so I'll simply say that my time on this journey is coming to a close. After meetings with leadership, it was decided that the best interest of everybody would be for me to be pulled out of the field. It's a very sad, disappointing and frustrating time for me but there is a peace about it all. I'll be using this time now back in America for much needed restoration in my heart and spirit. It'll be a time when I can just sit in my Father's lap and let God love me again with no interference.
To speak now to those who've supported me financially through this mission work. I can confidently say that your donations have made a big impact in the world and that won't change. There are quite a few squadmates that still are raising funds. These friends of mine are crazy and will do anything for Jesus Christ. Be comforted in knowing that your donations will now go towards helping them continue to do incredible things for God around the world.
I don't know the exact date yet when I'll be coming back to the States. It will be in the next week however. I'll continue to love your encouragement as my life is taking another big life change again. If you have any comments or questions about my new direction I'd love for you to contact me at ksmigiel@gmail.com and I'll do my best to get back to you ASAP. Thank you for loving and encouraging me enough to let me experience God's glory all over the world. Its been a life changing experience for me and look forward to what life holds in the future. Grace and Peace.
This isn't about field ministry or a callout for the American Church to wake up. This isn't some devotional or bit of knowledge I recieved from God. This is just my real, unfiltered and raw thoughts of where I stand right now in my faith and missionary journey.
To say I'm struggling would be an understatement. I honestly have difficulty even talking with my team about anything. I've lost my heart in what I'm doing and weary if it'll ever come back. I ask myself why I'm doing this and an answer slips my mind. I know God's here somewhere, but where I've lost track. I'm lost in my ability to keep pretending like I think there's hope for some people.
How can I look at someone's daughter who has malaria and tell them everything is okay?
How do you tell someone who hasn't eaten in who knows how long that God loves for them?
Why shouldn't they steal if all they have to live on is a little more than a dollar a day?
How do I look in the eyes of a critically disabled teenager and declare God cared about them?
Who am I that gets to live in a house with floors, walls and solid roof?
What do you do when people offer up their children to you and others just want money to go to school?
These are just some of the issues my mind is weighed down by. I'd greatly appreciate any kind of encouragement you have. I try to press on but I'm becoming too broken down. Everything I've spoken of in previous blogs I meant in all its fullest but now I'm weak. So my prayer to myself is Matthew 5:3, "blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
Shanty Life We break off into small teams and leave the church. Immediately we begin outreach ministry because we're located in the middle of a market and shanty homes close by. A couple friends lead the way around parts of the slum as we search, pray and invite people to know God. We run into countless people that are jobless, sick, alcoholic and broken down. Some invite us into their homes, simple one room abodes with tin walls and roof supported by wood posts. We walk through a maze of narrow passageways between homes, stooping under clothes lines and jumping over sludge trenches. Kids yell out "Muzungu!" (white person) and come after us in droves. They rub our arms as if the white comes off and persist on continuously shaking hands. This is just part of the day.
School Daze
The bell rings as we approach a local primary school. Students in green sweaters scurry around campus. The school complex holds over 1,000 students and tuition is less than a dollar (yet kids still stay home because they can't afford). The school compound has several rectangle buildings, two stories high with hallways on the outside connecting classrooms. I'm welcomed and introduced as a guest teacher in a normal room with 88 students packed like sardines. The irony about my visit to this public school... I teach about focusing on God. Jaded feelings about saying Jesus Christ around students aren't found here. There's actually structured times when students go to either protestant or catholic classes in the morning. This however isn't the most impactful experience.
Mother Teresa's Home
Even after our contact warned to ready ourselves, I wasn't prepared for what I set my eyes on. We walked into Mother Teresa's Home, a center for the disabled (founded by hers truly). Entering the eating area I was overcome with indescribable thoughts and feelings. Instantly I wanted to run, seeing disfigured and contorted bodies everywhere. At that moment some excitement broke out because muzungus were present. Then a peace took over me as I focused past the physical into the souls of these loved ones. I began to feed and help serve lunch to the residence. Soon all I could think about was how I didn't want to be anywhere else. I met a couple teenagers who begged I wouldn't forget them. I just sat and smiled at one more who tried her best to smile as two tears ran down her face. Another loved receiving High 5's and had the most contagious laugh.
I've seen life in the worst circumstances. I've seen light in the most intimidating of places. May God continue to dwell peace in our lives. May you find the life I've found in following Jesus Christ.
A fire rips through the local slum today leaving a baby dead and others clueless how to pick up the pieces. I come in from the streets covered in dust, smoke and sweat. I haven't cleaned off in over a week. Running water is only available certain days and electricity cuts off at random times. My clothes smell from wearing the same pair everyday.
Don't drink the water.
Don't forget to take malaria pills.
Don't let anyone follow you home.
Don't go out at night.
Don't eat foods sold in the market.
Hakuna Matata, right?
Maybe not, but there's a bigger worry I won't have to think about... do Kenyans love God? The passion and zeal I've seen from followers of Christ in Kenya the past week has been incredible. It makes the American church look deathly ill because of the lack of passion for God. While we have tolerated (or accepted) the secular culture, the Kenyan Church is fighting against the influence of western lifestyle. They don't want "our" way of living.
Nobody is going to make us stop substituting youth sports leagues for worship. Nobody is going to make us read the Bible. Nobody is going to make us turn off the TV and pray. Nobody is going to make us turn down promotions for the sake of spending time with our families. Nobody is going to make us clothe the naked, feed the hungry, walk with the lonely.
Colossians 3:2 "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things."
Knowing that God is still for us can bring back true passion and love.
Knowing that God sustains us brings a rest truly considered "Hakuna Matata".
Father, align our hearts so that it beats with yours.
Consume our spirit with what consumes yours.
Move us to tears so that we know what breaks your heart.
Awaken the depths of our souls that have been sleeping far too long.
Let love fill us up and overflow onto your creation.
Your Spirit ignite a wellspring inside us that cannot be stopped.
Lucky for ya'll, I found an internet café in Nairobi and I get to share my story of what's going down in Kenya. I'm excited to keep in touch about what God is doing far away from America (physically, spiritually and culturally).
Before I get any further into my time in Kenya I want to stop first and recap my last week. Every squad around the world flew into Dublin and we united together in worship, story telling and spiritual growth. The World Race took over a nearby campground, with some 200 plus tents setup, creating a tent-city. The past week we also held squad debriefs. Teams changed (New Team: Shiloh). My new teammates are: Ally Beeler, Kyle Bradbury, Carin Cownden, Courtney Hess, Sarah Hogan and Heather Horton.
The actual thought never crossed my mind that I would be walking on African soil until I walked out of the Kenyan airport and realized I wasn't in Ireland anymore. Even flying into Istanbul for our connecting flight and experiencing two botched landings, it never sunk into me where I was heading. After three months on this journey, we're hitting a new passage of ministry I've never experienced. This is a different world and life will never be the same after three months living here. I'm completely dependant on God here.
The smog from the congested traffic fills the air. Stepping onto the sidewalk brings feelings of what it truly means to be minority. The market teems with sellers haggling in every way imaginable, trying to vie for my attention. Stereotype for westerners - detail oriented, time keepers, opportunity bringers, financially rich. Kenyans dress for respect and the bigger you are the more admiration you receive. I've heard the phrase "hakuna matata" several times and so I'll be using the movie Lion King as my Rosetta Stone. I have money with bills in the thousands (exchange rate: 80:1).
I start ministry tomorrow next to the biggest slum in Sub-Sahara Africa. I'll have more on what I'm doing in the coming weeks. I'm prepared to follow God wherever His footprints are lead.
Our time in N. Ireland has come to a close and we're off to Dublin for squad debrief. We'll be camping outside the city till Sept. 6th, then taking the huge leap into Africa for three months. First stop, Kenya. But first, here's a look back at what was ministry in Belfast and the blessings the people here have given us!
I painted the youth room yesterday at the church we're staying at. I see a correlation in my years of youth work between youth ministry and constant painting projects. Common hypothesis... if you color walls, teenagers will come.
One wall, two wall, red wall, blue wall.
Walls are very important here because people spend lots of time inside from cold, rainy, windy weather in N. Ireland. I mean it's hard to believe its summer when I never go outside without a decent jacket on. It could also be the one day a week the sun comes out but it only lasts a couple hours before a rain storm rolls through. Walls are necessary in keeping the foul elements outside where they belong.
There's a difference though between the blue walls I painted and the sight looking off a cliff into the Irish Sea. I can paint a wall and hang a picture on it but there's no comparison to the amount of beauty I've seen viewing the green rolling hills crashing into deep blue waves. Which brings me to the point I'm trying to get at... life is found outside of walls - a place you can see God's creation and form real relationships.
Let's talk about people. Just like weather, people can be cold, bitter and down right nasty. Because of this we all have walls (barriers if you wish) we put up that shields our true emotions and passions. We don't dare go outside our personal walls in those kinds of elements. Some of us actually have gotten quite comfortable inside our walls (maybe painted them and added some décor) to a point we don't see any reason to leave them. So we live our lives inside our walls (bubble is you wish) never letting anyone know who we really are and never knowing who anyone else truly is.
I believe just like risking the adventure of experiencing Ireland's beautiful shoreline, its worth going outside your personal walls and allow people to love you for who you really are. Painted walls are just a poor representation of what beauty can be, measured to grand scale of how God designed the world. My time spent on the Irish coast cost getting soaked in the middle of a heavy rain storm. In the same way, sacrificing your walls means feelings are going to get hurt and conflict will happen, but at the end of the day (and storms) God gives us rainbows as a sign that there's a hope for a better next day. So instead of decorating your walls.... knock them down.
"Footnote"
A couple days ago a friend of mine took me around Belfast, showing me some of the sites. A block away from his apartment we stopped in the middle of the road. There, built right across the road was a huge brick wall blocking thru traffic. I was then told this wall was built because one side is a Protestant neighborhood and the other side is Catholic. I don't know how many years this wall has been there but it saddens me when the consequence of people too closed off to reconcile differences is lifeless brick slabs separating them. This is a prime example of people living inside their own walls.
Everyone has an innate gift to bring life to others. Since God created us for community, we're wired for relational connections. We were never meant to live alone and those that do know there's something missing, an abnormality that goes against our conscious thoughts. With lonely souls scattered all over the world its obvious something has gone wrong. Starting relationships can be hard work, let alone developing ones that thrive. So finding ourselves in community can be harder than we imagine.
Two things I've see a lot of this month in Belfast... laughter and tragedy. You can find laughter at parties and feasts. Tragedy however is found when the idols that we worshiped finally reveal themselves to be frauds at inauspicious times. I've noticed an interesting aspect from the parable of the prodigal son on laughter and tragedy. The younger son found both tragedy away from the Father and laughter during the welcoming feast prepared for him. Each experience was played out void of the older brother, who sat alone outside community set before him.
Something I've learned from the older brother and Belfast is... you can spend your whole life with idealistic thoughts on how life should be, but life will never go the way you want it to. Instead of wasting your time in narcissism, you can be making friends with people who together support each other through life's good and bad.
A man named Joe operates S.O.S. Bus. Every Friday and Saturday night from around 11-4am Joe and groups of volunteers setup coffee, tea, biscuits and candy in Belfast's City Centre. For no other reason than to love and serve each other we invite drunks, homeless and anyone else on the street. We talk, laugh and if someone comes up in a tragic situation we offer all the help we can muster. There is no personal agenda for this. S.O.S. Bus doesn't make money nor is it used for evangelism (although most people already know we're Christians). Joe just has a simple idea to help people where they are. And because of his idea the lonely laugh and those in the middle of tragedy have a shoulder to lean on. That's what I consider community.
We break off into small teams and leave the church. Immediately we begin outreach ministry because we're located in the middle of a market and shanty homes close by. A couple friends lead the way around parts of the slum as we search, pray and invite people to know God. We run into countless people that are jobless, sick, alcoholic and broken down. Some invite us into their homes, simple one room abodes with tin walls and roof supported by wood posts. We walk through a maze of narrow passageways between homes, stooping under clothes lines and jumping over sludge trenches. Kids yell out "Muzungu!" (white person) and come after us in droves. They rub our arms as if the white comes off and persist on continuously shaking hands. This is just part of the day.
The bell rings as we approach a local primary school. Students in green sweaters scurry around campus. The school complex holds over 1,000 students and tuition is less than a dollar (yet kids still stay home because they can't afford). The school compound has several rectangle buildings, two stories high with hallways on the outside connecting classrooms. I'm welcomed and introduced as a guest teacher in a normal room with 88 students packed like sardines. The irony about my visit to this 
eless how to pick up the pieces. I come in from the streets covered in dust, smoke and sweat. I haven't cleaned off in over a week. Running water is only available certain days and electricity cuts off at random times. My clothes smell from wearing the same pair everyday.
Colossians 3:2 "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things." 
Before I get any further into my time in Kenya I want to stop first and recap my last week. Every squad around the world flew into Dublin and we united together in worship, story telling and spiritual growth. The World Race took over a nearby campground, with some 200 plus tents setup, creating a tent-city. The past week we also held squad debriefs. Teams changed (New Team: Shiloh). My new teammates are: Ally Beeler, Kyle Bradbury, Carin Cownden, Courtney Hess, Sarah Hogan and Heather Horton. 
The smog from the congested traffic fills the air. Stepping onto the sidewalk brings feelings of what it truly means to be minority. The market teems with sellers haggling in every way imaginable, trying to vie for my attention. Stereotype for westerners - detail oriented, time keepers, opportunity bringers, financially rich. Kenyans dress for respect and the bigger you are the more admiration you receive. I've heard the phrase "hakuna matata" several times and so I'll be using the movie Lion King as my Rosetta Stone. I have money with bills in the thousands (exchange rate: 80:1).
I painted the youth room yesterday at the church we're staying at. I see a correlation in my years of youth work between youth ministry and constant painting projects. Common hypothesis... if you color walls, teenagers will come. 
"Footnote"
t our conscious thoughts. With lonely souls scattered all over the world its obvious something has gone wrong. Starting relationships can be hard work, let alone developing ones that thrive. So finding ourselves in community can be harder than we imagine. 
A man named Joe operates S.O.S. Bus. Every Friday and Saturday night from around 11-4am Joe and groups of volunteers setup coffee, tea, biscuits and candy in Belfast's City Centre. For no other reason than to love and serve each other we invite drunks, homeless and anyone else on the street. We talk, laugh and if someone comes up in a tragic situation we offer all the help we can muster. There is no personal agenda for this. S.O.S. Bus doesn't make money nor is it used for evangelism (although most people already know we're Christians). Joe just has a simple idea to help people where they are. And because of his idea the lonely laugh and those in the middle of tragedy have a shoulder to lean on. That's what I consider community. 