Believe

 

Meet Christabel(left) and Judith (picture above). Stories of agony….but God is writing a new story of beauty for both of them.

 It was a typical day for Judith. She was drawing water at the well and I can imagine she was humming some tune and chatting with her friends. What she did not know was that her life was about to change forever. She began to see armed individuals and soon after she saw many huts lit on fire. She ran home and saw her parents lying in blood. Her father had already fallen dead and the rebels forced Judith to kill her mother. She was immediately taken by the rebels and tied up with other girls. They were given very heavy loads to carry on their heads and their journey started into the bush. Those that failed to walk either received 100 or more strokes (whips) or were killed. “In the bush I could only see blood….the suffering started on my life”.

 Christabel was born in captivity. Her mother was abducted and given as a wife to one of the top commanders (second in command to Joseph Kony), Otti Vincent. Her mother produced with Otti Vincent and Christabel was born into chaos, torture and sorrow. Imagine, a toddler witnessing such extreme acts of violence. This was her normal, this was all she knew. Her mother was killed and after that moment she was separated from her father, Otti Vincent. She was able to see him once more and then never saw him again. She later learned that he was killed after Joseph Kony thought he was agreeing to peace talks.

 Both complete orphans. Both filled with grief and agony. Yet, hope wins. They have dreams and believe that God has amazing and wonderful plans for them. “God was looking for me”, says Christabel, after describing how He had protected her and lifted the heaviness off of her heart. Judith, who at one point could not even utter one word of her story, now presents herself with such strength and expectation. She dreams of being a psychiatric doctor to help others who have been affected by the LRA. Both of these precious jewels have felt the healing touch of Jesus and believe that they have purpose. Their past does not define them…if anything it pushes them to dream bigger, trust in hope and to ultimately believe.

 This Christmas you can give a gift that will continue to show all of these children that we believe in them, love them and are standing with them in their dreams and hope for the future. Will you BELIEVE with us?

 Have a very Merry and Blessed Christmas!!

 www.exileinternational.org

 

 

We Need Pain

I don’t even know how to document all that has happened this summer; so much on my heart and in my mind. Thankful that I have a God that knows it all!

 From the beginning all my expectations were thrown out the window. I walked into something that was completely different than I imagined…but honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. It was amazing to be able to walk alongside Children of Peace in their beginning stages and to have a hand in implementing the Peace Clubs…Such a gift and an honor that Exile gave me.

 And now I am preparing to say goodbye. For how long, I have no idea. I am at a loss for what is next and how God wants to continue to use me here. I have no doubt that I will be back…I KNOW I will be back…but when, how, in what role and capacity….I have no idea!

 I am leaving filled with gratitude. I have been so honored to hear these children’s stories and to have the privilege of working with them. I know I have mentioned this numerous times, but I learned more about love, healing, pain, forgiveness, obedience and hope these past months than any other time in my life. Many women and children trusted me with their pain and I freely entered into it with them. At times, yes, it was over bearing and too much to handle…but if they actually walked it and survived it, then I could listen to it.

 

There were moments when I would start my day and not want to hear of another child having to kill or being burned or drinking urine or eating human flesh…but God gave me grace and super natural strength for those days. There were days when my heart didn’t react to a story. Those days scared me more than any other. It was a sign that I wasn’t present and was blocking the depth of the pain that child walked through. It scared me that the stories started sounding the same and I was lumping them all together.

 But then a few days later I would break. I would feel again. I would have days of weeping for the children and all they have experienced. I liked those days, I finally felt alive again.

 I believe my heart knew the days that my spirit needed protecting to make it through the day. God gave what was needed in every moment of everyday. Through all the emotions, which changed on an hourly basis, I am thankful that I have a God that never changes and remains the same….always.

 The question I wrestled with the most these past few months?  “Where is God in all of this?”  The people I talk to everyday seem to know and they are the ones that had to experience the horrific events…so why can’t I understand it? They believe without a doubt that God is good and that He has a plan for them. Do I believe it? These past few months I have been so challenged in believing in the goodness of the God and in his plan for these individuals.

 After hearing story after story of torture and death, I was struggling with knowing how to respond. I often remind them of God’s love for them and how strong and important they were. But I noticed that as I shared with them I was questioning if I even believed what I was saying about God.

 But then there were days when I believed it. Days when I was on my knees because of the hope and strength I saw in the kids. Children who have chosen to forgive, who love and dream and desire to be so much more than their past. My eyes are able to open a little bigger and I can see a fuller picture. I can see the beauty in their pain. I can see how God has been good to them. I can see how God has protected their life. I can see how the only reason they are standing before me is because of the healing hands of God. Nothing else can explain it. God is in their smile and in their laughter.

 

I am amazed at how God uses pain in our lives to bring greater things. Pain is so needed in our lives. I think of a quote that says “ It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply” by Charles Swindoll. I am tempted to put a value on my pain vs their pain…but pain is pain and we need it to draw us to the heart of God. They get it. They praise and dance and bow down before God after watching their parents get chopped to pieces or burned to death. They cling to the heart of God.

 These children and adults know suffering, which can only mean that they will be effective for God and know more than any of us how to rely on Him for the rest of their lives. God watched as His one and only son was brutally beaten, whipped and had nails driven into his hands. God is not a stranger to pain and there is always a plan….a perfect, loving and good plan.

 God is breathing life into these children. A holy roar of redemption is being heard. Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is healing, hope and FREEDOM…..

 

The Spirit of the Lord is here…..

 

My Teachers (Part 2)

Mark- Man of JOY

 I first met Mark a few months ago. I was visiting a home out in a disabled community and Mark heard that there was an American around. He walked to find me and I instantly fell in love. His accent, his passion and his joy overtook me.

He has been blind since the age of six months. He doesn’t know life to be any different and when you meet him there is no doubt that he has not let losing his sight stand in his way. He has experienced pain and struggle in every sense of the word. He lost his first wife and six of his children to the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army). Only one child remains and his son now lives by him with his wife and their two children (with another on the way!).

Mark shares with me that numerous times he had to run from the rebels. Can you imagine not being able to see and knowing that people were being killed, kidnapped and mutilated all around you? He told me that his children would take his hand and run with him, he trusted them completely to lead him to safety.

Mark is now married to his second wife Helen. She is crippled and he communicated that because he is blind it is expected that he marry another who has a disability. He walks to Lira Town every Friday, 8 miles, to go and beg. If he makes enough money he can catch a ride back to his hut with few shillings left over. The last time that I was with him he shared with me that having a disability does not mean inability. Amen! Mark is determined, strong, witty and most of all incredibly joyful. When I run up to see him he is dancing, grabs me in an embrace and starts jumping up and down. He shared with me that he NEVER would have imagined that a white person would visit him. Oh Mark, you have changed my life. You have taught me what JOY means…not happiness which is fleeting and inconsistent…but inner, ever-lasting JOY, which can only come through Jesus!

 

Evelyn

Woman of Obedience

I travel to a community Agweng once a week and this is where I met Evelyn. She always greets me with singing, dancing and the high pitched “aye, aye, aye, aye!!”…not sure what they call that here J

It wasn’t until I visited her hut when the Colorado Team was here that I truly saw her soul and her pain. She knelt before us, holding her child and began weeping. She shared her struggle and her suffering. She was married but her husband was killed by the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army). She was barren, but she did not let that stop her from being a mother. She took in a girl and a boy and raised them as her own. They were both captured by the LRA and taken into captivity. The boy never returned.

The girl returned…..pregnant and with HIV. She gave birth to a son and then she passed away due to illness. Evelyn now cares for the child and she has contracted HIV from him. She shared with us that she has been living in intense pain for the past year due to fibroids in her stomach. I never would have known. She never shared before about her physical pain. She walks miles every week to see me when I come to Agweng. She works so hard every day to take care of the children and provide food…..all in intense pain.

Through some very generous donors we were able to get her to the clinic and arrange for her to have surgery! Actually, as I am writing this she is getting operated on! She was so thankful and communicated that this has changed her life.

However, through it all, even before she knew that she was getting the surgery, Evelyn taught me about obedience. She says “yes” to God even when it is hard and even what it hurts. She still dreams even when her desires are not yet met and she doesn’t know if they will ever come true. She says “yes” to caring for orphans that need a mother to love them, even if she might not have any money or any food. She says “yes” to life….no matter what comes with it.

Thank you Evelyn; for showing me what it looks like to be obedient even when it is hard and you want to give up. Thank you for CHOOSING to take in orphans as a single mother and loving them like they are your own. You are being obedient and faithful to God’s commandments of taking care of the fatherless.

 

My Teachers (part 1)

I love how God has drawn my heart to the elderly community here in Lira. I just seem to gravitate towards them and have learned countless lessons from listening to them share their heart. I thought I would do a post on some of the individuals that have impacted me in a deep way. Every time I leave them I am inspired and challenged. They get so much more than I ever will and have such a vast understanding of God’s character that I hope someday to attain.



Lucy

Woman of Forgiveness

We were out with the Colorado team doing home visits. We stopped to visit a gal, Margaret, who is in her early 20’s and is taking care of 2 of her own children plus 8 (I might not be correct on the exact number) of her siblings. She left her marriage to take care of her siblings due to both of her parents dying.

We walk up to a couple of huts and I see an elder lady sitting off in the distance, under a tree on a straw mat. I am greeted by a huge smile and a hug. I sit down next to her and begin to hear her story. She tells me that she lost all of her children and her husband to the LRA. Margaret is her granddaughter. She recounts the day that the LRA came and abducted her children and killed her husband. She lied to them when they asked her where her husband was because she knew what would happen if they found him. They tore inside her hut and found him there. Because she lied, they came and sliced off her big toe. She tried to get up and run away, but when she did she broke all of her toes on her right foot and they are now all bent at a 90 degree angle.

I looked her in the eyes and asked her “how do you get up every day?” “How do you keep moving forward?” Her answer, “God keeps me going and I forgave the rebels for what they did”

I am in awe and ask “How did you forgive?”

Lucy replies, “Because God tells us to. I forgive because God tells me to forgive. Those rebels knew not what they were doing. They were children, forced to kill.”

We ended our time with some singing and praying. I walked away wanting to forgive like Lucy forgives. I still get to see Lucy often and she is truly free because she chose to forgive. There is no other way that I can explain her radiance and her joy.

Thank you Lucy for choosing to do the hard thing…..you will reap such a great reward.

 

Pilda
 

Woman of Faith

It was the third time that I had visited the Barlyonyo Massacre Memorial Site (post on this to come later). This time I was there with the Dallas team. Every time that I go I hear a REALLY hard story and leave so angry and confused, wondering how this all ever happened. To be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to going on this day because I didn’t want to hear another story. But God always has different plans for me J

The team was listening to some of the local leaders share about the happenings on this day and since I heard it a couple of times before I decided to walk around a bit. There are often many individuals from the community that come when we arrive and my eyes fell on this lady, Pilda.

I knew there was a story to be told as I scanned her body and saw scar after scar and such deformation of her skin. From head to toe she was wrapped in a terrible memory. Before she said a word I was already fighting back tears.

I began to get to know her and her story started coming out. She shared with me that she was in the displacement camp when the rebels came. The rebels entered her hut where she and her husband were staying. They forced them both to lie down and they put grass on top of them and lit them on fire. They left and then set the hut up in blaze. Pilda was miraculously able to escape, but with tears in her eyes she talks about then watching the hut burn knowing that her husband was inside.

“How do you keep living?” The only question I know how to ask after I hear such a story.

"God” “I am thankful that I am alive and He keeps me going”

I look at Pilda and I share with her how at times, people in America, such as me, often begin to blame God and get very mad at God when bad things happen. She gasps! The thought was absurd to her. “No! God is ALWAYS good!” she says.

We take a short walk and I slip her some money to get some new sandals and some food. She looks at me and says “See, I knew God would take care of me today and He did because He sent you.”

Wow, such amazing Faith. Thank you Pilda; for modeling and teaching me what it looks like to never doubt God and His goodness.

 

Just one of those days.....

I know that I have not blogged in FOREVER…..so please forgive that this first post in over a month is going to be me being a “negative Nancy”.

Today was quite the adventure. Sometimes, well almost always, I am in the mood for a wild time. Today…not so much and the LAST thing I wanted was a crazy adventure.

We had a late start leaving Jinja because my bungee pictures were not uploading on my computer and I had to go back to the place where we jumped to get them reloaded. We had bus reservations in Kampala at 2:00pm to head to Lira and the bus from Jinja wasn’t loaded and ready until noon. We were hopeful that we would make it in time….but then it started down pouring and the traffic once in Kampala was a nightmare. With the mixture of those two, we thought it would be best to jump off the coaster and get on some Boda’s(motorcycle taxi’s)  to take us to the bus park. Mind you, it is raining, I have my pink carry-on suitcase, backpack and a couple of sacks….way too much to travel on boda’s around kampala….but hey, it’s an adventure right?!? It all sounded fun in the beginning!

I have always said that I would never take a Boda in downtown Kampala because it is dangerous and the traffic is crazy. I did it on the day we left for Jinja and survived and in this moment we had no other choice. Seriously, maybe God has me take these because my prayer life increases drastically every time J

So we whistle over some boda’s (still raining) and I load up with my carry-on suitcase in front of the driver, over the handle bars and me on the back. Ronald and Cord hop on another. I was told that the bus park we were headed to was “very near”…which in Ugandan does not mean it is close J We take off and my Boda speeds past Cord and Ronald. We are zipping in and out of cars, squeezing our way through the tight traffic. Imagine a parking lot of cars….now picture a motorcycle between parked cars….now picture all of those vehicles moving….yup, that was me. Pretty sure we even scraped a few as we passed. I am holding my breath and praying for survival J

We are now down to 5 min left to make it to our bus. These buses leave exactly when they are supposed to and when my boda finally got me there, I see our bus pulling out. “Mzungu, Mzungu! Is that your bus you want? Chase it, chase it! Boda, take her!” The Ugandans were trying to be helpful and my boda took off following the bus. At this point, I have no idea where Cord and Ronald are at and even if we caught up to the bus I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do!

The bus was refusing to pull over to let me on and at this point I was so frustrated, covered in mud and soaking wet. The Boda continues to follow the bus and then all of the sudden another motorcycle comes out of nowhere, is parallel to us and then rams right into us! I grab the driver, thinking “dear God we are going to flip.” I was trying to brace myself for whatever was going to happen next and how to handle the fall the best. I was imaging a huge pile up if we crashed and then all the bodas and cars behind us running over us.  The motorcycle is out of control and we are wobbling and tilting back and forth.

The crazy roads
 

By God’s amazing protection, the boda was able to get control of the bike and we continued moving forward. He was still trying to catch the bus, but it was impossible and all I wanted was to get off the stupid boda! I told him to stop, but he kept going. I yelled a little louder…he still kept going. Finally, I just screamed in his ear “ Stop now!!!!”. He finally got the point. I jumped off and in that moment all I wanted to do was cry. I was soaked, my luggage was muddy and drenched, my body was shaking and I had no idea where Cord and Ronald were….I just wanted a freakin car! J

I took a deep breath, pulled up my big girl panties and knew that I had to get back on the boda to get to Ronald and Cord. I met them safely and then we took off walking to another bus park. I was told, “it’s just down the road”…Yeah right…..

We start walking in the muddy, jammed pack streets. I am trying to protect all my stuff and be aware of someone unzipping my backpack from behind….seriously insane streets at this moment. So thankful for burly men to help carry my load and a bright pink suitcase J  I looked at Ronald, half smiling/laughing, half NOT, saying “I do not want adventure right now. I do not like this at all right now…get me to the bus! J”

Streets we had to walk through

We finally make it, load up the bus to find out that we still have 2 hours to wait until it fills up and can leave. Cord brings me my beloved Coke Zero (the only diet soda here) and I remember that I had some oreos in my bag. I sit down and for about 3.4 minutes I am relaxed. However, my peaceful moment is disrupted from then on with vendors crowding the aisles of the bus and getting in your face to buy their products….for the NEXT 2 HOURS! I feel claustrophobic often here because Ugandans or Africans in general have no concept of personal space….so needless to say; I had to practice a lot of deep breathing and taking vacations in my mind as I sat on the bus.

Why not have Matooke and Beans while you wait!?

Once we got moving (and crammed more people into the aisles for the 5 hour ride) I began to realize how normal this is becoming. This has been my normal for the past couple of months and will still be my normal for another month. I am not sure if I am ready for this all to end….in 30 days.

Bus Park

I am going to try REALLY hard to update my blog as frequently as possible throughout this next month. There is so much in store and even if there are days like today when I really don’t want an adventure….I will embrace it and remember that I will probably wake up the next morning itching for some drama J

 

 

Just a Momma and her Boys!

I was having a very difficult time finding joy today (or should I say CHOOSING joy). I was irritable and overwhelmed with all that we were still trying to figure out in planning for the team that is coming from the states on Saturday.

Isn’t it just like our God to see us exactly where we are and to be so kind as to send along a special blessing to pick us up when we need it? We don’t deserve it, I especially didn’t deserve it, yet He loves to shower us with kindness and to ultimately do this so that we once again are reminded that God is in control and all we need to do is rest in Him.

We were driving through town after leaving one of the schools and headed back to Jane’s. We were parked quickly, as someone jumped out to grab something. Someone then pointed out that some of our street kids ( laughing that I just said “our”, yes I am claiming them now) that we work with twice a week at Child Restoration Outreach were walking by. I jumped out and called to them. Immediately, they turned, had huge grins on their faces and came over to greet me. They are able to eat porridge in the mornings and have lunch at CRO, but they are not fed dinner. I asked them if they were hungry (more through sign language and rubbing their bellies) and wanted to go get some food.

I told the others I was with that I was going to hang out with the boys, Bruno and Oscar and go get some food. They drove off and it was the first time I had ever been alone with these boys without a translator (personally, they can be over-rated at times J) I LOVED every second of it! And of course, sweet Jane then calls me after driving off to remind me to keep an eye on my backpack! J

Bruno

We walked through town a bit until we stopped at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. We ordered three big plates of rice and three big plates of chicken! The boys were ecstatic when I asked them if they wanted a soda and looked like such gentleman as they put their straws in the bottles and sipped their drink!

We were nearly finished with our food, when Bruno and Oscar started yelling out to some other street kids (also from CRO) that were walking by to come over. These boys, who have nothing, immediately began sharing whatever they had left of their food with their friends. Of course, I had to have them join us! “Waitress, three more orders of rice and chicken and soda!”

Oscar

I had no idea what they were talking about…but they were laughing, giggling, making faces, telling jokes….for a moment in time they were able to be children. They could eat trusting that they didn’t have to fight for their food or have it taken from them. I don’t think my smile ever washed from my face the whole time I sat with them…watching, listening, learning. For moment in time, as I looked at all five of them devouring their food, I felt like just a momma and her boys!

They had so much gratitude and many “apoyo’s” (thank you) were exchanged. If only they were able to understand English I would have told them….”no, thank YOU. Yes, I might have bought some dinner for you…but YOU filled my heart tonight. You brought back the joy that was missing. You teach me about strength and perseverance every time I am with you”

Their bellies were all protruding a bit more than before dinner, a sign that they were satisfied. I hugged them all and we parted ways. They were on their way to find a spot to safely sleep for the night. Walking away was a little easier knowing that at least their tummies would not be grumbling and hopefully sleep would come a little bit easier for them tonight.

Solomon, Ochenosen, Suna

As I walked through the town in the dark on my way home, my heart finally felt more alive. How can something that simple, that little… restore such life? Easy….it’s the art of giving. It’s the fact that being a part of something GREATER is what God has intended for our life….and especially for our hearts.

"Lost in Love" tank or t-shirt!

Ever since I have been here in Lira, Uganda and assisting Children of Peace Uganda I have seen so much need. We are daily handing over money to assist the leaders of Children of Peace, provide money for drivers, cars and fuel, food, art supplies, treatment materials, stops to the clinic for some of the children and so much more!

I am asking for your help! Make a purchase that makes a difference! With a purchase of a "Lost in Love" tank or t-shirt you will be directly assisting in meeting the needs right here on the ground! How cool is that!!! Your money will have a direct effect on the work we do with these former child soldiers!

Sale is open until August 8th! Please spread the word and share to all of your friends like crazy!

Purchase here: http://karihamilton.storenvy.com

Dream BIG!

Today, I sat in a room with doctors, nurses, engineers, pastors, pilots, carpenters, mommies to orphans and a few presidents. What a bunch, huh?? These children of war know how to dream! This is what gives me hope. I recently worked with a group of kids that have received no trauma care and many of them were unable to dream. The children I worked with today give me hope, that soon all these children who have faced traumatic experiences will be able to dream.

 Before I came here, I had a rough couple of months. I am beginning to see why God led me through some trials during that time, so I could share more from my heart the importance of dreaming, even though it is hard. A wise counselor, Jan Meyes-Proett, shared with me that when we push down our deepest desires and do not face them, we put ourselves in a very vulnerable place. We end up doing things that we know is not what we truly desire deep down in the depths of our hearts…but in the moment it seems easier and we rather trade in feeling that at least some of our needs are being met, rather than every part of our heart.

 I have been able to pass this wisdom on to these brave hearts and challenge them to DREAM BIG…bigger than getting school fees, bigger than just a job. Who are they going to BE? How are others going to SEE them? Who are they in the depths of their soul? It is hard and very frightening. You are walking in unknown territory and we don’t know if our dreams will come true…but we dream anyways!

 These children have more strength and ability to dream than I do. I watch them draw, I hear them share…with power in their voice, confidence in their demeanor. They BELIEVE, they TRUST and they walk by FAITH…Lord teach me to dream like them.

 When asked what they are thankful for, these children respond “wisdom” “knowledge” “that God protected me” “that I am ALIVE”…no child in America that I have worked with has ever responded in this way. These children know how to be grateful.

 I walked into the room and asked the group if they remembered what their assignment was from a few days ago. They nodded their heads, grinned and shouted, “DREAM BIG!” Oh I wish I had that moment on recording so you could hear the hope and courage in their voices.

 They put their heads down and listened as I guided them through an imagery activity of picturing their dream. Can’t you just seem them in the future? As I watch them I want to climb inside their minds to see where they are going, what they are doing.

 They sit up and begin to put whatever image that was in their mind into a drawing or words. For a moment in time they see themselves as ABLE, as ACHIEVERS and most of all as DREAMERS. They hear that “All things are possible through Christ” and that they are capable of making meaning of their past through finding their purpose in the here and now.

 All we can do is present our heart, in its truest, purest form to God and trust and believe that He sees and hears all of our innermost desires and will lead us to a place where….

 DREAMS REALLY DO COME TRUE.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

On Thursday (12^th) we went to a community in Ogur. This is close to Baarylonyo, and if you google this you will read about a massacre that occurred here from the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army). We were greeted with waving palm branches, singing and dancing from the children and mothers. Africans LOVE to sing and dance and I truly believe this is how they heal. Many of the kids sang for us and it appeared that they wrote their own lyrics about the pain that they have been through, yet how they have survived.

We met with about 50 kids/youth and some child-mothers. All of these children fit the target population that Children of Peace Uganda work’s with. Former child soldiers, abducted, born in captivity or child mothers. We split them up into different age groups and began relationship building through games, songs and dance!

I had the teenagers and we did a few drama games and then we did the “lighthouse” activity (you can read about this in an earlier post).

God then had some plans that I was not prepared for. Our time with them on this day was supposed to be nothing more than just getting to know them and to get familiar with one another before we start the peace clubs with them. We had a little bit of time left and so we had the group come back together. We thought it might be fun to just give them a piece of paper and a marker and have them draw whatever they wanted. I had the translator communicate to them to draw whatever was on their heart.

Their stories came pouring out. I was walking around and as my eyes were glancing at their papers I started seeing guns, villages on fire, rebels, individuals tied up…..and so much more. I began to get a bit nervous because we did not plan for this to happen. We didn’t have the time to sit with each child and talk about what they were drawing. But God had a plan.

I began to stop to sit with a few at a time and ask them what they were drawing. “my village on fire” “watching the rebels kill people” “ here they are tying up all the kids together and placing heavy things on their head to carry” “me holding a gun” “my parents are dead in this picture, I watched them get murdered”…..and the stories kept coming….

I saw a boy (Peter, 16) sitting on the bench staring at his picture. He looked completely lost in it…wrapped up in whatever it was he had drawn. I made my way over to him. I asked him if he would be willing to share with me what he drew. Tears immediately starting welling up in his eyes. He shared about how he was remembering how the children were taken from their homes. Then, he pointed to a picture of a rebel pointing a gun at a mother and her baby. I asked him who that was. He replied “that’s me”….as more tears began streaming down his face. My heart was breaking and I found myself struggling to keep my own tears from pouring out.

He wanted prayer. Prayers of forgiveness. He told me he felt so bad and wondered if God would ever forgive him for what he did. I no longer held my tears in. I wept with him. I held him and prayed with the strength and power of Jesus Christ. I found myself taking the greatest pain in my own life that I have experienced and multiplying that by about 100….to try and understand. It is too great. Too great for me or for you or for him, Peter….but not too great for our God.

Peter and I

As we left our time there, we were escorted out with…can you guess?? Singing and dancing. God sees them. There is no therapy intervention that could bring ultimate healing to these children. The trauma is so severe. Yes, they can learn some skills and we will teach them those skills and different ways to express their pain and their stories. But only God can put their broken heart back together. Only God can turn their memories of terror into beauty. Only God.

Meet the children/youth at Lira Boarding School

I know for me, once I have a name and a face to put with a story it all becomes THAT MUCH more real. Meet the children and youth that are in our Peace Club at Lira Integrated Boarding School. Please take your time. Look into their eyes. Imagine what they would tell you if they could speak. Say a prayer for them. These children have either been former child soldiers, abducted or born in captivity.