Deep sapphire waters lap calmly against the shore of red sand and stone, the white foam forming on the beach cutting a jagged line and creating a vivid contrast between the deep blue and burnt umber red. In this ‘land of the sun’, our nearest star hangs low and heavy, an ever-present force on this desert landscape. This scene describes the landscape awaiting our team at Lake Turkana, where we will be engaged in new ministry opportunities among the El Molo in just a few days time. As I think of what is coming in the next leg of our ministry expedition, I cannot help but think of the Sea of Galilee, which boasts similar vistas around its shores as well.
The Sea of Galilee is not much bigger than a large lake, in fact, at only 166 kilometers squared, the Sea of Galilee is dwarfed by Lake Turkana nearly 40 times over! It can be difficult, then, when one actually sees the Sea of Galilee in person how it could be such an epicenter for so many storms, and events from the Gospels. When visiting Lake Tiberius in 2023, we had a tour guide explain really well how the lake could be so tumultuous. As a direct result of the surrounding landscape, the Sea of Galilee sits in a natural depression, like a bowl in the desert. As wind currents and weather patterns build over the Mediterranean, and push inland, these warm and cold air currents mix, causing violent storms to whip up over the lake.
In Matthew 14:22-32 we read the account of the apostle Peter’s act of deep faith, and his example of reckless abandon for the cause of Christ. As the storm built and the disciples found themselves in the fight for their lives, in the moment of absolute desperation, it was then that they saw their Savior, the Messiah, Jesus, walking out to them in the midst of the storm. It was in this moment of absolute terror that Simon Peter does something truly profound, stepping out of the boat in faith, and becoming the only human to ever know the sensation of walking on fluid water. To simply say Peter ‘stepped of of the boat is a bit of an understatement, as the gunwales of the craft used to sail the Sea of Galilee are typically built 6 feet off the surface of the water, meaning Peter most likely had to edge over the side, and hang, before dropping the last 6 inches or so onto the water. In this move, Peter not only shows his faith in Christ, but his absolute, reckless abandon for his pursuit of Christ, knowing full well that he did not have an easily accessible way to retreat back into the boat.
The first conceptual idea of an expedition to the El Molo came in November of 2023. I was in southern Kenya at the time, speaking at an event at Olderkesi training lay leaders in the church how to connect Old Testament narratives to the attributes of who Jesus Christ is in the New Testament. One evening, as we were all relaxing from the day, taking tea and sharing about different ministry opportunities, Rueben leaned in and said, ‘We should go to the El Molo!’
My first question was “who are the El Molo, and where are they?” The rest of our conversation that evening hovered around the fact that they were an isolated ethnic group, living almost solely on an island in the middle of Lake Turkana, and that to date, the Church had not yet reached them with the Gospel. As Rueben described how we would reach them, I could not help but chuckle, as he pantomimed paddling a canoe out across the waters of Lake Turkana. What made his pantomime so particularly funny was that as he was ‘paddling’ he was gyrating both arms simultaneously, in a windmilling motion reminiscent of a chicken attempting to take flight. I had to ask him a second time to show me how we would paddle out to them.
‘You know Letaipa (my Maasai name), we just get in a boat and paddle out like this!’ Again a gyrating chicken taking flight.
It was then that the significance of what I was seeing hit me. Reuben is Samburu, and has lived his entire life in a desert, which at times experience intermittent rains years apart. He had never seen as much water in his entire life as he was now saying we just ‘get in a boat’ and cross. He had no frame of reference for what it would feel like, to be in the middle of the lake, completely separated from terra firma. For Rueben, the unknowns did not matter, as the opportunity to take the Gospel to this unreached group far outweighed any fear he may experience. Rueben was, and is, recklessly abandoned for the cause of Christ.
To reach the El Molo, our team will have to cross 200 km of desert landscape, nearly 300 km further north than our current ‘most remote’ church plant, L’Moti. Just getting to the shore where we will hire the pilot boats that will take us to the island is dangerous. The route through this area of Kenya leads through an area that is heavily infiltrated with radical muslim extremists. Besides the dangerous route, we will be driving through an isolated landscape, surrounded by the sub-Saharan desert, where any mechanical issue could be compounded by the climate and leave us stranded, isolated. Expect to self-rescue.
Moreover, the population has been isolated for quite some time, so our reception was a concern for some time, before we were able to secure an invitation from the village chief.
Historically known as the Tribe of 99, tribal lore of the El Molo goes that the total ethnic population was maintained at 99 individuals. An off shoot of the Turkana, and sharing roots with the Maa ethnic group of eastern Africa, there is a language commonality between Turkana, Samburu and Maasai. While the entire ethnic population may have been regulated to 99 individuals in the past, today, total numbers of El Molo are about 540 individuals.
This expedition represents far more than human planning and ambition—it’s a testament to God’s perfect timing and sovereign orchestration of circumstances. Multiple variables have aligned in this season, creating what can only be described as a divine appointment.
The completion of the L’Moti church building wasn’t just a ministry milestone—it was the key that unlocked this opportunity. Pastor Peter LeKombe, now leading the L’Moti congregation, carries within him a family connection that spans the vast distances of Northern Kenya. As the nephew of the El Molo village chief, Peter has become our bridge to this isolated community, securing the invitation that transforms this expedition from an impossible dream into an imminent reality.
Without that invitation, we would simply be strangers attempting to approach a people who have maintained their isolation for generations. With it, we become welcomed guests, invited to share the greatest treasure we possess—the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
The months leading up to this moment have been filled with meticulous preparation that reflects both practical wisdom and reckless faith. Our vehicle has been refitted to carry an additional 80 liters of fuel—a modification born from the reality that there are no gas stations in the sub-Saharan desert, and mechanical failure could mean the difference between life and death. We’ve invested in solar generators and Starlink connectivity, ensuring we can maintain communication even from one of the most isolated places on earth.
But perhaps more importantly, our team has been preparing spiritually. We’ve spent countless hours in prayer, seeking God’s heart for the El Molo people and asking Him to prepare our own hearts for what we may encounter. We’ve wrestled with the weight of potentially being the first messengers to bring the Gospel to this community, and we’ve surrendered our plans to His perfect will.
There’s an electricity in the air as we prepare to depart—the sense that we stand on the threshold of something unprecedented in our ministry. A new mission field may be opening before our eyes, and we’re humbled to be the instruments God has chosen for this initial survey. Like Peter stepping out of the boat onto waters he’d never walked before, we’re about to venture into territory where the Gospel has never been proclaimed, trusting that the same God who held Peter’s feet will guide our steps.
As we prepare for departure, I’m reminded that throughout history, the Gospel has advanced not through the cautious and calculating, but through those willing to display what the world calls “reckless abandonment” but heaven calls faithful obedience. From Abraham leaving Ur without knowing his destination, to the disciples dropping their nets to follow an itinerant preacher, to countless missionaries crossing oceans and continents to reach the unreached—the kingdom of God has always required those willing to step into the unknown.
In a few days, our team will follow in that tradition, crossing desert and deep water to reach a people group that has never heard the name of Jesus. We go not as thrill-seekers or adventurers, but as ambassadors of the Most High God, carrying the only message that can transform hearts, heal communities, and offer eternal hope.
Your partnership makes this “reckless abandonment” possible. Your prayers sustain us, your support equips us, and your encouragement reminds us that we don’t go alone—we’re part of a global body of believers united in taking the Gospel to every tribe, tongue, and nation.
The deep sapphire waters of Lake Turkana await. The El Molo people await. And like Peter before us, we’re stepping out of the boat, trusting that the same God who called us to these waters will hold us steady until His purposes are accomplished.
From one man He made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and He marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from any one of us. Acts 17:26-27