By Aidelle Kasemmongkol
Reflections from Kenya: A Glimpse into Heaven on Earth
I had the incredible privilege of serving on a mission trip to Kenya, with International Women’s Ministries and I’m still overwhelmed by all that God did—both in us and through us.
From the moment we arrived, the ministry that hosted us treated us with such honor and respect. It was humbling and beautiful to witness their heart for God and for His people. During the conferences we held, I noticed the women were guarded at first—quiet, reserved, unsure of what to expect. But as we shared our testimonies and ministered the Word, their hearts began to soften. You could see it in their eyes, in their posture, and eventually, in their tears.
The worship throughout our meetings was alive—vibrant, joyful, and powerful. These women were not just singing songs; they were declaring victory in Jesus. They understood that worship is warfare. Every song was a weapon, every dance a declaration. When I explained why I use flags in worship, it became a divine moment—an invitation to declare what Jehovah Nissi means “His Banner over me is Love” a declaration of Victory. Their curiosity turned to reverence, then to exuberant joy.
When I shared my own story – how the glory of God rescued me from rejection, abandonment, and years of physical and emotional abuse – I told them that people see me today (mother of four, grandmother of five) and assume my life has always looked this whole. They were stunned to hear the brokenness God brought me out of. I explained that my turning point came when I finally got alone with God in the secret place. There, I discovered what He truly says about me, and my identity in Christ gave me the courage to rise and walk toward the purpose He has declared over my life. Many of the women—single mothers, those abandoned or rejected—leaned in with hope flashing in their eyes. The same God who restored me could restore them, too.
What impacted me most was their hunger—an unrelenting desire to encounter God’s glory. Despite overwhelming challenges—oppression, poverty, the relentless grind of providing for their families—their worship was pure, passionate, and powerful. I witnessed women travailing in the Spirit, crying out to the Lord with everything inside them. There was no performance, no pretense—just raw, unfiltered surrender. It reminded me that God’s presence isn’t reserved for perfect settings or easy seasons; He meets us right in the midst of desperation.
Kenya has marked me deeply. I carry their prayers, their tears, and their joy in my heart. These are women of strength, women of faith, women of fire. And I know my testimony of rejection turned to restoration—will keep echoing there long after we’ve flown home, because the same glory that healed my life is ready and eager to heal theirs.
