On our first day in the village of Karima, we were greeted by the community with clapping and singing. We gathered in a circle and sang songs, danced, and shouted praises to our Lord. We didn’t know the language but the meaning was clear – we serve the same God and He is worthy to be praised.
We met near the new well that was built through 410 bridge. We encountered a group of people very thankful for the provision of water from our church and ultimately the Lord. I could sense the excitement but didn’t fully understand the difference this well made in their lives.
I slowly and carefully climbed down while children passed me by, experts in the descent to get water. I glanced behind me once I had reached the bottom and could not imagine climbing back up this rocky terrain with gallons of water on my back.
My version of walking to the refrigerator to get clean, filtered water out of the door had not adequately prepared me for the task at hand. I know, I am soft.
As I watched child after child strap gallons of water and 50 pounds of fire wood up the hill, my heart sank. We have no idea. We don’t get it. The well back at the village took on a new meaning to me. At first all I saw was a well, now I saw a new way of life. A new life that was provided because a group of people back in the States decided to do something that was bigger than themselves. A group of people who realized that giving of their time, money and resources could change not only a life but a village.