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They say that when you build on faith, the universe—and the weather—will test your resolve. After the foundation was laid and the walls of the Gary and Lesley Scherer Wound Care and Community Clinic began to rise, we hit a period of agonizing suspense. The timber frame was up, reaching toward the Kenyan sky, but we were missing one vital piece: the roof. Roofing frames up, no iron sheet meant Panic. The tropical weather is not that forgiving to exposed timber. My little faith was not only panicking, but I was also scared to my core.

 

 

Then, the rains came.

Watching from a distance, I felt a physical ache in my chest every time I heard the forecast. Each tropical downpour felt like a direct assault on the progress we had fought so hard to achieve. I lay awake at night, gripped by the worry that the untreated timber would warp or rot before we could cover it. We were so close, yet our "baby plan" was literally being soaked to its core.


 

The Scramble for Shelter

The financial mountain felt steeper than ever. I knew we needed to move fast, but the gap between our bank account and the cost of roofing materials in Kenya felt like a canyon. Once again, the network Gary and Lesley helped build stepped into the gap. Through our GoFundMe campaign, friends and strangers alike began to chip in. Then came a moment of profound grace: Lesley Scherer and more friends reached out, providing a check specifically for the roofing that breathed new life into the project.

But even with those generous gifts, we faced a reality check. The math simply wasn’t adding up to the number of iron sheets required to cover the entire structure was more than the fund we had.

A Kenyan Connection

I reached out to my network on the ground in Kenya, explaining our plight. I told them, "This is what we have, and this is the dream we are trying to protect." The response was overwhelming. My Kenyan brothers and sisters scrambled, scouring suppliers for the most affordable, high-quality iron sheets that fit our tight budget. They negotiated, they pushed, and they found a way to make our limited funds stretch further than I thought possible.Even then, we didn't have enough to cover the labor costs immediately. That’s when the miracle of trust happened. I spoke to the contractors with total transparency:

"I cannot pay you fully today. But if you trust me, and you trust this mission, I will pay you every cent as soon as the funds arrive."


In a world that often demands payment upfront, these builders looked at the rising clinic and said, "Yes." They completed part of the roofing on a handshake and a promise. Well, I say "completed," but if you look closely at the photos, you might notice something. There is a visible gap in the iron sheets—a missing piece in our armor against the rain. We’ve started calling this "Finding Waldo." In the middle of this beautiful roof, "Waldo" is that empty space waiting to be filled. It’s a reminder that while we have come so far, the journey isn't finished yet.

 

 

 


 The Grin from Above: Finding Waldo

Garys Monalisa Grin :)


With the roof mostly secured, the timber is finally safe, and the structure is beginning to look like a sanctuary. But a building is just a shell until "Waldo" is found and the doors are swung open. Sometimes, when the stress of the budget gets to me, I laugh. I can almost see Gary looking down with that signature grin—the one Tim Whitcomb always talks about.


I can hear his voice in my head, teasing me with that fatherly, knowing smile:

"George, you thought this was going to be easy. Duh!"

I know he’s laughing at my panic, but I also know he’s proud. As an orphan who grew up on the streets of Kenya with nothing, this process has been a labor of love that has lit up my soul. We are building a legacy of hope that even death could not stop.


Help Us "Find Waldo" and Finish the Dream

 

In case you can’t find Waldo Take a look at this :)


We have the foundation. We have the walls. We have the trust of our builders. Now, we need to cross the finish line to make the Gary and Lesley Scherer Wound Care and Community Clinic fully operational.


Our Immediate Needs:

  • Closing the Gap: Funding the remaining roofing materials to finally "find Waldo."

  • Securing the Clinic: Purchasing and installing permanent doors and windows.

  • Final Furnishings: Completing the exterior and interior finishes so we can move in medical supplies.


How You Can Join Us:

  1. Donate: Every dollar goes directly toward the materials needed to make this clinic a reality

  2. Share the Story: Spread the word about our "Finding Waldo" moment. Your share might reach the person who helps us buy that last sheet of iron.

  3. Partner with Us: If you have medical expertise or equipment to donate, please reach out to us directly.


Gary and Lesley’s dream is rising because a community of compassionate hearts refused to let it die. Let’s finish this together.

 

 

 


 
 
 

It has been a few weeks since Gary’s memorial service, yet I still find myself reflecting on the powerful testimonies shared that day. Speaker after speaker spoke of their wonderful experiences with Gary, highlighting his tireless devotion to helping others, a quality that seemed to flow from him effortlessly.


Never to be forgotten.

One moment that stands out was when Pastor described their work together, taking phone calls for the Billy Graham 24-7 prayer line. He shared a lighthearted story about receiving their first call: it was in Spanish, a language neither of them spoke. In that moment of shared confusion and laughter, I realized that Gary’s heart and influence transcended language barriers and cultural lines. It was a beautiful, bright spot of joy during our collective grief.


I first met Gary in California during George’s graduation. I can still see him now: a tall, steady figure standing beside George like the father he truly was. He was the mentor and father figure George had always needed, a role Gary stepped into with natural grace. I saw such radiant pride in Gary’s face that day—proud of his son’s hard work and all he had achieved. It was clear to me then that George was exactly where he belonged: by Gary’s side. They were a team united by profound love and mutual care. There was a light in George’s face that day, the smile of a young champion bolstered by the man standing next to him.


I believe deeply in the community of Everlasting Hope. Gary left us with the blessing of a simple lesson: give to others, even when the gesture seems small. As a community, a network, friends, family and a church, we have learned so much from his example.


With love.


 
 
 
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