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.