Artisan Spotlight: Miujiza

She tugged slightly on the thread and gathered the woven fabric under her fingers. With a critical eye, she leaned back to give her creation a better look. A smile formed at the corner of her mouth. It was good.

This artisan weaver of Miujiza sat at a large wooden loom in a light,filled room located in a slum in the heart of Kenya in September 2022. Every thread represented something, a pain from the past, a dream for the future, the even and intentional tangle of threads woven together to make something new and beautiful.

Our team, visiting from the USA, followed the path to the weaver’s home and sat in awe at the unbelievable transformation since becoming a Mercy House Global artisan four years ago.

Her daughter is a successful college student. Her granddaughter was born at Rehema House six years ago. They are all thriving.

The light radiating from this home, this woman, her family—it was blinding. God weaves stories of hope and hopelessness together to show us where we have been and where He can take us.

Just a few hours earlier, we had visited a grandmother to a different Rehema resident. We had to feel our way in the dark as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder in an 8’ × 8’ airless room. The hopelessness was oppressive. We quietly listened to the heartbreak. The tears that silently fell on behalf of this precious grandmother in the darkness of the room couldn’t be seen, but they were present on each face that bore witness. Grief filled the room.

“Even in the midst of his darkest season, Job knew that the apparent absence of God was not a sign of his disfavor—or even worse—that He was somehow unjust. Job knew his own heart, he trusted God’s, and he believed everything would work out in the end. He couldn’t explain why bad things were happening or how a good God would allow them. But in the dark, he trusted what he learned in the light,” Chris Tiegreen wrote.

What that heavy room needed most was the light that only hope could bring because as Desmond Tutu explained “hope is being able to see that there is light despite all the darkness.” We prayed over the sweet grandma and asked God for her miracle.

Four years ago, we left home visits like this feeling hopeless. Today, after years of development and progress, we have beautiful light-filled stories and programs for desperate women. And these two grandmothers with the same—but different stories—would soon be co-workers.

Two women. Two stories. Hope and hopelessness. One God weaving them together because “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5