True Poverty is the Lack of Love

There's a woman named Jesca who lives in my compound. She's 28 and University educated. She is a social worker at the local sub-county.
I came home from school one day earlier last week and she asked me to come with her on some field work. On the way over she explained to me the situation of the 3 children we were going to visit. Their mother had many children with different fathers (None of the fathers stuck around). The mother died two years ago. Some fathers came to get their own children leaving 3 boys behind; an 8 year old (Simon Peter), a 10 year old (Robert) and a 14 year old (Simon Peter)....yes she gave two of her children the same name. These children had no where to go and the mother's family did not want them because of a dispute in the past with the mother. They were starving, eating plants. They wandered into Kapelebyong about a year ago and took shelter in an abandonded hut (since peace, people have been moving back to their villages). They became beggers of their neighbors until the 14 year old starting making charcol and selling it. (Of course I now buy my charcol from him).
As Jesca and I continued walking farther and farther into the bush, the grass was growing taller than me and grasshoppers were scattering everywhere.
We finally arrived and I saw the condition of their hut....about collapse. All three were very shy and quiet. The youngest, Peter, spoke for all of them with a small voice.
Their clothes were so dirty (no soap) and barely covered their "special areas". In fact, the two young ones were sent home from school because their clothes were so dirty and they hadn't bathed. Robert wouldn't speak at all or even smile. I wondered if he was sick (later to find out he has typhoid which we're treating now). I asked them to come over for dinner the next night to talk with me...and I also took their school clothes to wash them...I mean, they are my students (Both P.1, 1st grade).
The next night Simon (14years) was staring out the door at the rain in Esther's room as we were cooking; quiet, maybe nervous. Jesca came in and he began their story speaking in Ateso.
How do we begin to provide for children in this extreme condition; no orphanges around,no NGO's.
Ojada, Esther's 10 year old son who's been fighting cancer the past 2 years, walked in with one of his shirts and gave it to the boys; Dacus gave them washing soap; Scovia gave them another shirt. I almost started crying watching the spirit of giving. The poor giving to the poor.
I told the headmaster of the primary school of their situation. Schools get more aide the more orphans they have.
I'm going to provide a goat for them. Goats produce quickly and can provide a lot for them.
Everyday life in Uganda.....
Scovia's grandmother got her a bag for school but not one for Ojada (she's not the most loving woman). Ojada saw it and said (at 10 years old), "I don't mind if she didn't get one for me, my God will provide for me."
"It is not true that God wants to teach us something in our trials: through every cloud He brings, He wants us to unclean something. His purpose in the cloud is to simplify our belief until our relationship to Him is exactly that of a child..." -Oswald

When will we learn?

I’d be lying if I said I had no fear. I’ve become so comfortable in this place that I forget it’s a war zone. A gun shot here, death of a Ugandan neighbor there; but when there is a death (a murder) of an American you know, one your age at that, it hits closer to home….it becomes real again. It strikes the fear chord in your brain; the one you try to tell, “Perfect faith casts out all fear”…but who has perfect faith?; especially when fear overwhelms.
“When I speak of fear, I mean merely animal fear, the recoil of the organism from its destruction; the smothery feeling; the sense of being a rat in a trap.” –C.S. Lewis
As the bombs struck in Kampala one week ago, killing over 80 Ugandans (educated ones; but should that matter?) and Nate Henn, it reminded me that Uganda is a time bomb; a volcano waiting to erupt. War ends, and then it begins again. Will we ever learn? Those who pick up the sword die by the sword….but so do those who don’t pick up the sword. Why do swords have to exist at all?
All I can do is pray in weakness. Prayers flow from my lips that I don’t even know how to translate. I pray for those trapped in the lies that they are slaves to; lies that killing others and yourself will give you blessings from Allah. All I can do is love my enemies; to wake and thank God for the breath He is giving me. Because no matter what happens here, it is under the will of God…and God forbid I be anywhere else.
“Knowing that the Good Shepherd is watching and protecting me gives me courage to go through the valley of the shadow of death. Even in the presence of my enemies, I can enjoy a rich feast because God is with me. Faith in God leads to can-do boldness and daring action.” –Paul Miller
Pray for the families that have lost their loved ones; for their hearts to turn away from anger towards forgiveness. God, show us how to forgive! Pray for their deep sorrow; knowing they can no longer kiss the lips of their loved ones…can no longer hear their laughter.
"Islam is a religion of peace and does not condone violence. Those who killed people in the Sunday bombings should be condemned. It is wicked to kill innocent people and Islam does not allow suicide bombing." Sheikh Yahya Ssegganga, leader of Old Kampala Mosque
"Al Shabaab made a big mistake. This is all out war!" President Museveni
"How long, how long must we sing this song....Sunday, Bloody Sunday"-Bono

Sounds in the night...

Where do I being? If you and I were sitting together one on one, I would tell you so many stories…but as for now…I must condense.

Almost everyone in my village has typhoid….and the Ugandan government could care less about cleaning the water. Even the teachers, doctors and nurses have it. Baby Amelia has been fighting it all week.

A local soldier was shot and killed by a Karamajong rebel last weekend about 20km away from me. His family lives next to me. I stood there watching his mother, wife and brother wailing, convulsing, and crying thick tears for the loss of their loved one. I couldn’t help but cry with them…watching as his new born baby screamed. It’s rare to watch a grown Ugandan man cry. One of his brothers is a student of mine. My male students always come of as so strong….but he just laid there on the ground in tears. That was just the second day of me being back in Kapelebyong.

I’ve been working in the hospital assisting in births. I stood next to a woman who was in labor for two days…only to watch her give birth to a still born. The mother was bleeding internally. The baby laid there lifeless…a really human baby…with no movement….a baby girl. The mother just laid there crying…9 months…and nothing. In this culture, the family was ashamed of the mother and left her at the hospital by herself disappointed in her…as if she had control of the situation. I just sat next to her, crying with her and praying over her…lucky enough, she is still alive and recovering.

There’s an orchestra that performs in the village at night. The mosquitoes humming outside my net preying for dinner, crickets and their violins in my walls, the frogs boasting their deep croaks; then the roosters start crowing around 4 a.m….far before sunrise (stupid birds), the calming coo of the white dove, the cows grunting as the herder awakes them to graze…the babies crying because their mother’s have awoken them to a cold bath…locals greeting, “yoga a to porauch” (good morning). In 2007, the sound of the rooster at 4 a.m. was a calming sound to me. Back then there would be gun shots all through the night. There was even a man shot and killed outside my door. So I’d lay there awake with my heart in my throat fearing being killed. So the roosters crowing meant dawn was near…which meant safety….which meant a few more hours of sleep….

It feels as if I never left...

To be honest, it has been a long time since I have felt the love God has for me...especially since Hannah died. However, this morning I was awoken by the Ugandan sunrise shining on my face...and I felt it. I laid there for a long time, just feeling His love for me. It was freeing.
Before my 2 days of plane rides, I prayed that I wouldn't have to do it alone. On my flight from Orlando to Amsterdam there was a girl sitting in front of me. She asked the assistant if she would be missing her connection to Kampala since our flight was delayed. I realized I had the same worry and we started talking. Of course she had been a roadie for Invisible Children and was now working for One Mango Tree in Gulu...we had much to talk about. We rushed together to our next flight and realized our seats were right next to each other! What are the chances! When we arrived in EBB, we both did not receive our luggage! After 4 years of traveling here, I have never lost my luggage! It's still in Amsterdam...we made it, but our luggage didn't. I am blessed to have someone with me in this whole process....a true friendship in the making :)
We'll be picking up our bags tonight so I'm staying in Kampala a day longer...TIA. I can't stay in Kampala too long though....the smog goes straight to the head.
"He is jealous for me...loves like a hurricane, I am a tree...bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.."

Land of a Lifetime

“Last evening my heart was singing!”

These are the words of Esther referring to the purchase of her own land; a dream I have had for her and her family for the past year.

A few days after I returned back to Uganda, we were sitting together with Ojada in the hospital. She looked at me with a serious face, desperate for any hope I could give her. She was sharing with me her deepest fears. She said, “What will happen to my children in their future?” Esther was diagnosed with HIV in December, and since, only worries for her children. She has NEVER asked me for anything, which is rare for a Ugandan. I told her, “This is the time Esther, we are going to buy land for you. God’s people love you and want to provide for you.”

I could continue to buy her the things she needs at the moment (food, school fees, medical care); however, those things will always be there. In purchasing her land, she can build a life for her family.

Her first husband was killed by rebel soldiers leaving her with two children (now 20 &18 years) and her second husband left her almost 2 years ago now with three children (5 total) and HIV. I also found out that this man has several other wives. Along with those struggles, baby Amelia also has HIV and Ojada has bone cancer (and has not improved). Esther has had no place to call her home. She had been staying in Kapelebyong (the original home of her husband who left her) before the cancer of her son. Since she has been gone treating Ojada in Kampala, her mother-in-law has stolen almost everything she owns (along with things I have given Esther). I knew it was up to me, and the grace of God, to get her out of that place.

It’s been one week since we have bought the land, a place for her and her children to call home. When Ojada is healed, she can begin to plant crops and cantaloupe (I brought her the seeds).

I would like to give a major THANK YOU for all who have been supporting the projects in Kapelebyong, Uganda financially and emotionally. If it weren’t for your hearts, this would have never been possible.

This is a photo of Esther on her new land in Katakwi, Uganda with her son James (20 years), baby Amelia (2 years in Feb.), Ojada (9 years) and Esther’s father (69 years).

I would just like to ask for more prayer. Last Sunday I got malaria and went to the hospital. They were just going to give me the pills and then I passed out in the hallway (Tiff and Kerri, you know this well) I was really sick. They had to put me on drip for 3 days. The day after I got malaria, Allison was also diagnosed (the only other person with me). We stayed in the same room very very sick and afraid no one could take care of us. So we prayed.

Then we woke up to an angel (or a guy named Jack from New Zealand who worked as a rafting guide) who had heard of our sickness and brought us food and juice. He took good care of us along with the Ugandan taxi driver who took us to the hospital.

This was a hard case of malaria and we are slowly recovering and gaining strength back. Please pray that we gain health quickly and be able to serve the people around us.
This photo is my hand and Allison in the bed in the background.

There are millions of stars

Breathe in, breathe out…

It’s been over two weeks in and I’m not gonna lie, it’s been difficult.

There is a really bad drought this year in Teso land (the tribe I work with). People depend on the rain for farming, therefore, people are starving. It’s super hot and dry and people are suffering all around us. Although it’s hot, it’s always such a blessing to sit next to my Ugandan sisters under the night sky looking at the Milky Way and God’s amazing creation.

Esther, the woman I’ve lived with since 2007 who has become a very dear friend of mine, was diagnosed with HIV in December along with her lastborn, baby Amelia. Her husband who infected her left her over a year ago with five children to take car of. Her 9 year old son Ojada Dao was diagnosed with Bone Cancer one year ago and they have been from one hospital to the next for the past year. Not only all of this, but they are among the poorest people in the world.

We have been in Kampala the past few days helping Esther and Ojada from one hospital where he gets surgery (his bones are being eaten by the cancer) to another where he gets chemo. This hospital is called Malago. It’s so over-crowded that most days they don’t have a bed to lay on. Yesterday we stayed with them on the pavement outside the ward waiting to be transferred to another hospital. The flies and ants are everywhere and Ojada was in horrible pain. Esther told me that sometimes when the money is not there, they have to walk 5 miles to the next hospital (Ojada is on crutches). As we were loading him into the car, a woman started wailing and we found out her child had just died.

When we got to the other hospital, I was picking up Ojada and he said to me, “You are also now my mother. I fear being at Malago Hospital because all around you people are crying; people are dying.” I set him down on the bed and being so overwhelmed, I ran to vomit in the pit latrine. When I came out, Esther was standing there with water and a worried look on her face. I put my arms around her and with tears I told her how sorry I was that she is sick, how sorry I was that she has to suffer and how much I love her. She looked in my eyes seriously and said, “I will be ok. In the end, we will all be dancing together in heaven. ” We stood there hugging for a long time as tears ran down our faces.

I’ve often tried to figure out why God has some people suffering more than others. I will never understand it until I meet God face to face. When that happens, that thought may no longer be in my mind. Because in the end …..we will all be dancing together in heaven.

“In this world you will have trouble. But take Heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Be praying for these people…..

Tired and dirty but filled with joy…