Throughout the trip, God used the broken hearts and bodies of Kenyan children to move my own. Going from village to village in the middle of nowhere, riding through the desert in Kenya, I encountered many people who had immensely strong relationships with God because their lives depend on it. They know they need Him more than we know that we do. Seeing them dance and sing praises to the Lord in their tribal songs despite having nothing to their name but pain, starvation, thirst, disease and heartbreak... this awakened my heart. This convicted and humbled me. Between dancing with hundreds of HIV-positive children in the slums of Nairobi and being a shoulder for orphaned children in Nakuru to cry on, this heart of mine will never be the same. At House of Hope in Lodwar, however, I encountered a boy who captured my heart more than any other. His name is William. He was found last year at age 3, stomach extended far outward due to worms, living on the dirt streets of a village and carving broomsticks out of tree branches with a sharp rock. He was doing this at age 3 in order to trade the brooms to adults in exchange for food so that he wouldn't die of starvation. Now he's at SERV's House of Hope in Lodwar, playing soccer and eating food and doing things that 4-year-olds should be doing. If I even gave him an inkling of joy over the course of my 4 days in Lodwar, that in turn brings me joy. I have promised to return and see that radiant smile of his again someday. As I said earlier, this heart of mine will never be the same... because it is no longer a heart focused on me.