Live In Love

“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.” 1 John 4: 16

Life here has become a beautiful experience of new relationships. Each day I have been provided with an opportunity to love and be loved. My heart has increased its capacity and my walls I had built to keep others out have been crumbling. There is a new freedom that exists in forgetting myself and embracing the joys and sorrows of others. There is a view of God that is only visible when we let go of ourselves and fall head long into God’s great love. The letting go can be terrifying. It feels as if we might lose everything, but it isn’t long before we realize that we have gained much more than we feared to lose.

I love the widows. I love their faces. They are faces that wear deep lines of sorrow, pain, heartache, unfulfilled dreams, frustrated plans and deep love for their children. Their eyes are my favorite part. They show a deep commitment to the one who promised to never leave them, never forsake them and to count them as blessed. Their eyes dance with hope. Hope in a God that claims them as his treasured beauty. He told us in the book of James that pure religion is taking care of widows in their distress. He mentions them in scripture by name. From the beginning of time, God has interceded for widows and begs all of us to act on his behalf. If your spouse were suffering would you not move heaven and earth to relieve their pain?

This week when Joyce and I entered the meeting place of my beloved widows, there was a great eruption of wild shouts and cheers. Have you ever heard joy unabashed? I was taken aback by the sheer volume of the noise, yet drawn close by the pure happiness of the moment. When the ladies finally relieved themselves of their loud cries of joy, Ruth, their chairperson told me that they had spent the last year praying that God would send someone to help them. Someone to see their pain. Someone to care. She told me of the times they had fasted and gathered together to pray for a rescuer. Ruth looked at me intently and said that they were now celebrating that God had sent me. We recognized you by the love you have for us. It is genuine and real. Again the loud shouts came. I sat there and shook inside. Can they see how weak I am? Do they know my imperfections? Have they seen my failures? How can I be a rescuer?

It is an awesome responsibility to be in loving relationships. It carries with it great pleasure and great potential as well as great potential for failure. I realized as I felt the very hairs on my neck stand up that only God could be a rescuer; however, he somehow needed me to do it. I needed help, so I went to the only place I knew to get it. Snuggling in the loving arms of the father, I received enough courage to enter fully into this love affair with these widows. Ruth was now calling on me to speak to these dear women. I stood, opened my Bible and talked about the great love of God--a God who connects privileged Christians in the west with beloved Christians of Africa. I told them about a woman who was spending her time and talent making a scripture book for them. I told them about a group of people who wanted to give of their resources to help them acquire adequate housing. Then I told them that God blesses those that love deeply from the heart. It is their love for each other and for God that brought this blessing and it will be their continued love that makes this blessing a reality. I warned them against the evils that money can bring—jealousy, envy, greed, and anger. Don’t let this money divide you, let the blessing bring you deeper into love for God and each other. As I finished, several women stood to clap and to ask their fellow widows to stay committed to God and not to the money. They encouraged one another to think of how to bless the widow next to her instead of herself. Have you ever bathed in love? Seen it in human form? Seen it given in practical ways? I have in that moment. Ruth said, “Ladies, I want you all of you to get a house before I do. God will take care of me, so I will be the first to put my fellow widow ahead of me.” This started a chain reaction of widows giving the right of way to other widows. I could feel God breathing on my neck. It was so close. It was so magnificent.

Suddenly, a woman stood and said, “Please I must speak. I feel I might burst if I don’t sing praise to God right now. “ She burst into a beautiful song about God’s love. Suddenly we were all caught up in it. We were standing, arms waving in the air, our feet swaying and our mouths singing about God’s great love. It was almost too much to experience all at once. I shook again—this time with holy goose bumps.

As the meeting came to a close, Ruth stood and asked the widows to outstretch their hands and pray for me. “Can we now bless our daughter? She has come in love for us. Let’s now pray that God gives her a great love. A great husband to love and honor her.” Suddenly, a hundred voices in three different languages were praying for me—calling down a great blessing from heaven. They were crying out and lifting their hands to heaven. I stood before them and cried. My chest heaved as I cried. The love was just so great. How could they know my heart’s desire? How could I be worthy of this love? Then these dear women prayed for the privileged western Christians—those who have decided to be in relationship with them. They prayed that God would bless them beyond measure. Then we prayed for the land that God would prepare for them. We ended by telling God how mighty and magnificent He is. Suddenly we were cheering again. All I could think was God is great and greatly to be praised!

As I left that place each widow held me and called me daughter. I had become a part of them. I was in a committed relationship full of love and joy. I walked toward the mini-bus holding hands with two widows and feeling joy. It was a moment to remember.

Have you felt joy like that? Do you know God’s great capacity for love? You will find it in the least of these. Maybe that is why God said that the last will be first and the first will be last. It is us, the privileged ones, that see love last. It is only when we let go of all we hold on to that we will free fall into a love so magnificent that it can not be contained in words. It is long journey to the least, the lost and the left out sometimes, but one well worth it. In fact it is a journey towards the heart of God.

Update on my life:

These last couple of weeks have been intense. Each day seems jam packed with its own unique intensity. It is getting so hard to find time to just sit and write. I feel the need to process everything that is happening, but yet the days do not seem long enough. Over the last two weeks I have seen the beauty of God’s people in unity. It is breathtaking!

I first wrote about the widows group a couple of weeks ago. I tried to give you a glimpse of what it feels like to be a widow without land, with out a home, without enough resources, but with a mighty God. A couple of days later I was amazed and thrilled to hear from so many of you. The Holy Spirit had moved in you and people with resources were moving toward those without resources in relationship and love. Now it will be possible to for the widows to buy a plot of land and build some small 2-room homes for them and their children. The loud cries of joy shook the rafters of that place. Now the widows are busy meeting with each other and researching the cheapest land they can find. Once they have a plan, they will be ready to receive the funding from so many of you. It is amazing to stand in the gap between you and them. Keep praying that God continues to stay in the details so that the plan will continue to move forward.

I have continued to spend time teaching English and building relationships with the boys at the Kibuli house. They are really beginning to warm up to me and tell me things about themselves. I also went to a birthday party for a mentor in the girl’s house. She was turning 21 and asked me to be her “mother” at the party. It was a formal party. She was dressed in her finest and looked so beautiful. Then her friends gathered and played games and sang praise songs. Finally I was asked to read scripture over her and to tell what dreams I had for my daughter. She put her head down and cried mid way through the party. I just sat beside her and rubbed her back. It is so nice to be a mother!

Last Thursday I spent time at IJM (International Justice Mission) working on a project for their social worker. IJM is trying to create a seminar for illiterate women who receive settlements of large sums of money. These women need to be taught enough basic skills to manage their money and their business. I gave them some teaching tips and tried to give some suggestions for working with illiterate people.

I have also been attending chapel at World Vision every morning and God is really speaking to me through these chapel speakers. I have been so challenged to pray—often and with humble reverence for God believing that he is the lion of Judah-wild and powerful. One of the men at World Vision who cleans the offices is a powerful man of prayer. He sought me out last week and asked to talk to me. I sat down with him and he told me that God had asked him to pray for my husband. He told me that God has seen all my disappointments in the past and wants to bless me with a good husband. My mouth dropped to the floor and I just stared at him. I had never told this man that I was single or that I wanted to get married. I thanked him and said something of very little value. Then we parted. Later that week, while with the widows they decided that they would bless me by praying a man of great worth, value and love into my life. They prayed that I would have a husband who loves Jesus and wants to passionately serve him. I don’t even know what to say about this other than-- Lord I will take any blessing you give me. Maybe it is true that God gives us the desires of our hearts.

Finally, I have had the opportunity this week to represent Cornerstone and be their spokesman of sorts to a group of 15 American college students who are here visiting. It is nice to be a part of the staff and not a visitor any longer!

For my Memorial Day weekend, I was able to travel out to Rakai to attend Johnson’s pre-introduction meeting. During this ceremony, Johnson brings gifts to the girl’s family and formally asks her father for her hand in marriage. They then agree on all the details of the wedding. Finally they eat coffee beans together. It was really special to be included in this cultural ceremony. You can see the pictures from my weekend on my picture page.

On a personal level, I am making so many wonderful friends and really feeling at home. I like living here, in fact I love it; however, I do not love the cockroaches! One crawled across my leg the other day and I screamed and scared Veronica. I tell you it is always exciting here! I am also getting much more comfortable with moving around the city and using public transportation. I feel like a Ugandan muzungu more every day!

I have not yet heard the outcome of my interview with the International School, so I am still waiting to hear. Please pray that I hear soon as I would like to settle this decision. I am heading up to Gulu the first week of June or thereabouts. I can’t wait to report on all the joys and sorrows of that place!

Keep praying for me!

Much love,

Kari

Time With God's Beloved

“For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and he loves the foreigner, giving him food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners.” Deuteronomy 10:17-19

Lord Alfred Tennyson said it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I’ve turned this phrase over and over in my mind and I just can’t make sense of it. Maybe it might be better said that it is better to love the author of love than to have no love at all. Joyce is a widow who has loved and lost and life has been hard. She has struggled to raise 5 children by herself. She has fasted and prayed for enough food to feed her children. The losing of her love was devastating and set in motion a life most of us can’t even imagine.

This week Joyce took me to her widows group. They meet in a church on the outskirts of Kampala. As we walked up the dirt path to the church, I wondered what it would be like to be in the presence of 100 widows. How can that much pain and suffering be in one place? What does it feel like to bathe in disease and hunger?

These widows, about 100 in all, have escaped the violence in the north. In many ways they are foreigners in Kampala. Their language is different and they look distinctly Acholi. They were forced to leave with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They all have children—some of the children are HIV positive, some are orphans from their community that they picked up along the journey. About 30 of the women are currently on ARV drugs and are in various stages of AIDS. I held one woman yesterday and felt her feverish face on mine as I hugged her. She was shaking as I prayed for her, but she whispered in my ear, “I know God will be faithful.”

They cling to the scriptures that tell them that God loves his widows and will take care of them. I have never heard such love for the savior. He is their only hope for survival. One woman told me that she has been HIV positive since 1988. She said that God is the only one who has kept her alive. Prayer has been her medicine, God her healer.

When they begin to pray, they cheer, they tell God of his greatness, they reach their hands to heaven. They attribute the fact that many are still alive to God’s ability to keep death at the door. Miracles have happened here—people have been healed, food has been given out of nowhere, shelter has been provided.

As I sat among these courageous women, Patience stood to give a testimony of God’s love for widows. Patience gave birth to three sets of twins. Two of her children have now died and she lives in a shelter that is not even fit for a goat. Every time it rains the water pours through the roof wetting everything and everyone. A couple weeks ago, she came to the other widows and asked them to pray for her. At this point in her testimony, Ruth, a fellow widow, stood up and explained that each time it rained which is frequent here in the rainy season, she would get out of bed get on her knees and pray for Patience. During one of her prayer times, the Lord reminded her of some metal sheeting that had been removed from a nearby church. Ruth continued in prayer through the morning. When Patience suddenly arrived at her door. Patience had never been to Ruth’s home before and came only because she felt the Lord telling her to go. The two women then walked over to the nearby church and asked to meet with the pastor. Ruth then inquired about the metal sheets that had been removed from the roof of the church. The pastor then gave the women the metal sheets. That week Patience’s house received a new metal roof. Patience ended by saying, “I know ask the Lord to let it rain!” The widows erupted in loud whoops and cheers. God had proved himself faithful.

It was now time for me to introduce myself. I stood and wondered what to say. I suddenly decided to be vulnerable. I told them a personal story of pain. I told them how God had been the great rescuer. The widows cheered and praised God saying “King of Glory, King of Glory.” Then I recited all the verses I knew about God’s love for the widows and they clapped and cheered. They live on those words. It isn’t just a great thought or a cheery reminder, it is their only course of survival. I suddenly wondered if I cling to Jesus like that. Do I depend on him as if my life depended on it?

Finally, the announcements came. Many of the widows are being evicted from their homes by August 1st to make way for new development. They have lost all their original property to the long war of the north or to relatives of their dead husband and now they will lose the small structures on this piece of land. I shook my head and couldn’t even comprehend the magnitude of this recent pronouncement. These women are devastatingly poor and are left out of even the Ugandan society.

As I pondered this seemingly devastating news, Ruth stood and quieted the women. She said, “ Ladies, we have nothing to fear. God told us over and over how he loves the widow. He will take care of us. Let us not give in to fear.” Then she suggested that they all fast and pray one day next week to ask God for a miracle. “God can do it. If he can find homes for birds and foxes, then he can find homes for us.” Now faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see.

At the conclusion of our meeting, we all held hands and began to pray. The ladies prayed for each other, for their possible eviction, for enough food to feed their children, for school fees and for me. They prayed that my coming would open doors of opportunity for them--that I would become a part of them. That I would care for them and meet their needs as I had the resources to do so. Somewhere deep in my soul I knew that God had connected me here to love these women and to provide for their needs as best I could. I asked God to put me in a place to love and be loved, not just emotionally, but in action. Once again I was placed in God’s divine drama where relationships reign and resources flow from one to another.

I suddenly felt right in the palm of God’s hand, but I was not alone. The widows were with me. We were connected. We were in relationship. At that moment I began to pray. My voice was loud. It seemed I was shouting. I imagined that I was standing before the throne of God small and ordinary shaking at the sight of his great might, but determined to stand firm. I shouted for God to look at these women. See your beloved are sick, your beloved are dying, your beloved are hungry, your beloved have no where to live, your beloved are scared. So small and ordinary, I asked God to come down from his throne and be with us. To make right what the world had made wrong. I told him that I would be his hands and feet. Like the story of Samaritan, I would not see the problem and pass by on the other side of the road. I was now stopped, in relationship with these women and giving of my resources. As I finished praying the women began to pray all at once. Telling the Lord how beautiful he was, how glorious, how powerful, how majestic. It was a small taste of heaven--the kind of heaven that should exist here on earth--loving the author of love and then loving each other.

Update on my life:

This week has been emotionally charged for me. Meeting the widows was a powerful experience. I think I am still processing all of it. I will continue to meet with them every Thursday. They are desperate, so if you can contribute any money to them for shelter and food please, please, please email me. I will give you the details. They are authentic born again Christians who love Jesus and live on his mercy. Now God needs you to be his mercy givers!!

Last Monday, I set up all my World Vision sponsorship visits. I am excited to see the kids again! On Tuesday and Friday of this week I taught English to the boys in the Youth Core Home. I feel like I am slowly creating some good relationships with the boys there. I also got a chance to visit one of the girls homes this week. It was good to keep those relationships moving forward as well. This week also gave me an opportunity to get to know the Corner Stone staff as well. They are amazing people and masters at relationship building.

Wednesday, I went for my interview at the International School of Uganda. The interview went well and they were very interested in me. This week I will hear if they can afford to even consider an overseas hire. If they can not, then I will let this opportunity pass for sure, but if they can I will be in some serious prayer.

Otherwise, life here is good. I am happy and healthy. God is stretching me and loving me. I am in good relationships and feel settled in my soul.

Much love,
Kari

A Light In The Darkness

“Is this not the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.” Isaiah 58:6-9

Have you ever been in a place and seen the Bible come alive? When the words written on sometimes dusty pages become dynamic, full of life and three-dimensional. They aren’t words uttered by the old prophets of the past. They are descriptors of the present reality. Those ancient words seem to describe what is happening at this very moment. I can tell you that when you find your self living those ancient words, it makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. Your eyes open in childlike wonder and awe and you long for the moment to last forever. God seems to whisper in your ear, “Here am I.”

I heard that whisper this week. Today I went to the Corner Stone Youth Core Home for boys who have been found living on the street in the slums of Kampala. This home is for the boys who are new to Corner Stone. Many are fresh from the street. These boys are tough. They have had to be to survive. They range in age from 12-18. To say they were destitute is an overstatement. I sat with these former street boys today and I listened as three of them shared the journey of their lives with me. It was hard to comprehend how traumatic and painful their past had been and even harder to believe they were sitting with me laughing over my attempts at L’Ugandan. I showed them pictures of my family. I told them about myself. I was vulnerable, open and free, hoping to send a quiet invitation of God’s love.

They called me “Mama” as is customary for a lady older than they are. “Mama, will you come back?” “Mama will you stick with us? Really will you come every week?” It is hard for them to believe that a lady would come into this den of young men and consistently care for them. Each time they called me “Mama” I wondered if they longed for their own mothers who have long since died. I noticed as the boys were talking to me, one of the youngest came and sat shoulder to shoulder with me. The soft maternal side of me could discern his quiet yearning for a mother’s touch. In this house of testosterone there was a quiet longing for something maternal, a mother’s love long lost. So, I sat there with this boy leaning hard against my shoulder. I made no sudden moves nor did I call attention to it. I understood his need and sank into the moment.

As I sat there, one of the boys stood up and paced in front of me as he told me his story. He was from a small village west of the city. It was a rural area with many cows. It was peaceful and he was from a good family. In 1999 a false pastor came to his village and began to tell the people that God was going to come back in the year 2000. This pastor was very convincing and many, many people stopped planting new crops. They gave their property to “God” –really to the false pastor. When January 1st, 2000 came the pastor invited all the people into the church asking them to bring their most prized possessions. The pastor took the possessions and told the people that God would come with fire and to not be afraid. As the people were meeting, two boys were sent to tie up the cattle that had been left grazing. The pastor then locked the people in the church and set fire to it killing all the villagers except these two young boys. This boy was one of those survivors. He watched helplessly as his family was burned alive. He then was juggled from one relative to another. None of whom had any resources to care for him. Finally, he left his relatives and at 13 he began to live on the streets of Kampala. He begged for food. He stole regularly to meet his needs. He was alone and he was hopeless.

Then one day, one of the mentors who cares for these street boys found this frantic boy on the street and invited him back to the house. The Corner Stone mentor, himself a former street boy, gave him water for bathing, gave him clothes to wear, fed him and gave him a space to sleep in the house. This boy has now been in the house for two years. He is back in school and is one of the students I will be teaching for the next 3 months. He said that after coming to Corner Stone, he found a new “family” that cares about him and has given him his hope back.

As I sat under the shade of that tree, I listened intently to each boy’s story. Their stories followed the same pattern: death of those that loved them, relatives that could not or would not care for them, the authorities picking them up for stealing and then Corner Stone staff rescuing them from a hopeless existence. They were painful stories of trauma and then powerful stories of rescue. As I listened I felt the heavy weight of their past and the glimmer of healing that will lead to their future.

In the middle of this Kampala slum at this simple concrete home these boys are beginning to find Jesus. The one who loves street boys. The one who worships his father by clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, providing shelter for the homeless, and setting those oppressed by hopelessness free. Suddenly, in that moment there was a whisper of “Here am I.”

Update on my life:

What a week! I feel like I have so many stories to tell, but only so much time to sit down and write them. I am trying to pick the stories that move me the most and communicate them as best I can. I hope they are not just used consumed. I hope they sit inside your soul and move you to fast as Isaiah did by loving the poor and hopeless in your midst. The cries of these orphans will be heard by God, the question is will you hear them and respond?

This last Wednesday I spent the morning with the staff at International Justice Mission. We spent the first hour of our time together discussing the scripture and then praying for the orphans and widows they are seeking to help. There are currently 16 open cases. Most of the cases have to do with land grabbing. When parents or a spouse die, as they often do here, the land or property is sometimes taken by unscrupulous relatives or neighbors leaving the widow or orphans with no where to live. IJM is seeking to find justice for these widows and orphans. They win or mediate a favorable settlement for almost all of their cases. I will be spending some more time helping them create a way to teach villagers about wills and budgeting. Hopefully, my teaching skills will be well used.

Late Wednesday afternoon, I left with other Corner Stone staff to spend the night 3 hours away at the Leadership Academy for Young Men at what is called “the ranch.” It is called a ranch because there is a great herd of cattle there. They milk the cows and sell the milk in Kampala in order to pay for the operation of the Leadership Academy. The ranch also holds a primary and secondary school for the poorest children in the neighboring villages. CPC supports 11 students at the secondary school. I was fortunate enough to meet these beautiful girls and boys. We sat under an African shade tree and I told them how much we loved them. I encouraged them to work hard and to stay focused. I told them how much God loves them and that they were created for a great purpose. I talked to the girls about staying sexually pure and not seeking a husband while they are in school. Many girls in this poor region get married at 16 or younger, so I wanted them to know that God had given them a great chance for education and to use it wisely. So far, no girl at the secondary school has gotten pregnant which is astounding in this area.

The students also told me what they were learning on the ranch. They are taught leadership principles as well as how to love and follow Christ. The girls especially had learned that they are valuable to God. They now know that they have great worth and they have the power to say no to the advances of men in the community. The boys talked about their excitement over finding a “family” to belong to. Many of these children are orphans and Corner Stone is now their family. It is a place where they belong and are loved. It was a beautiful moment of knowing and being known!

This Sunday Veronica and I met with some widows who are trying to create income for themselves by making laquered jewelry. Ruth is the coordinator of a group of about 80 widows who are desperately trying to survive in Kampala. Thirty of them are HIV positive. Almost all of them are from the north where the fighting is the worst. We went to church with them and then spent the afternoon eating lunch with the pastor who is caring for this group of women. These widows are totally dependent on God and each other. I will meet with the whole group of widows on Thursday afternoon. I am sure there will be a story to tell.

On Monday, I will meet with some World Vision staff here in town and hopefully visit the abandon babies home. On Tuesday & Friday I will l return to the boys home to teach English to those dear street boys. On Wednesday I have an interview at the International School of Uganda. I don’t know exactly why I am interviewing or what God wants to communicate to me through this opportunity. If I take this job I will be here for another year. Please pray for me! I need discernment. The school is amazing and as God would have it I have been trained in the very curriculum this school is teaching. Essentially, they are looking for me. Anyway, it is an interesting thing to think about.

Like every other week here, anything can happen and probably will. It is interesting this week we have had more days with electricity, but they have shut off the water. We have had two days with no water. Apparently the landlord is feuding with one of the tenants so she is shutting off the water for everyone here. For the last 24 hours the water has been on so maybe the feud is over. Anyway, I am happy. I am beginning to feel like “I am home” and I am LOVING being with Veronica. Please continue to pray blessing into her life! Well, I love hearing from you so feel free to email me. Also, be sure to click the pictures link to see the newly added photos. I included pictures of IJM, the ranch, the girls leadership school, and Cornerstone. Enjoy! If you have time drop me an email. I love hearing what is happening in your life too!

Much love,
Kari

Words, Handshakes & Hugs

“More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to practice this simple ministry of presence…But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories, and tell your own, then to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like them, but you truly love them.” Henri J. M. Nouwen, Dutch Catholic Priest, writer and theologian

This desire to be present with people, to know them….really know them lives somewhere deep inside of my soul. I long for meaningful relationships. I long to know people in their own context. I long to hear their stories and to tell them mine. So this week, I sat on doorsteps and listened to my neighbors. I walked around Kampala, greeted people with a Ugandan handshake and entered their homes for a cup of tea. I listened as well as I talked. I hugged them and tried hard to communicate that I do not simply like them, but I truly love them.

Like Henri Nouwen, I have chosen to pattern my life after Jesus and practice this simple ministry of presence. We follow a savior who loved those he encountered in real and tangible ways. For him love was an action, not just a fickle emotion. Love was not quantified as big or small or as meaningful or insignificant. It was just love. Now as I model myself after him, I am trying to love like he did.

Over the last month it has slowly sunk in that I live in Africa. I am not just visiting. I live here day to day in an apartment with friends. I use public transportation and am slowly learning L’Ugandan. I have slowly gotten used to the fact that I am the only muzungu, white person, in my neighborhood. Mosquitoes bite me on an hourly basis. New red welts seem to appear each day. Veronica keeps telling me that the African mosquitoes are enjoying my fresh American blood. I guess it is a nice change for them. I sleep under a treated mosquito net and have never been so grateful to do so. I am hot from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed. I am always sweating. It is my new normal. I bathe in a small rubber tub and have now gotten better at getting my whole head in that small tub. I never realized how complex it is to wash my hair. Drying my hair has now become a luxury as we have electricity about 60% of the time. It now takes 2 hours to prepare a meal over the charcoal stove out side our apartment. Since, I have no idea how to make matooke or chapatti, my job is to hold the flashlight and stir the rice. There is no big story here. It is just life here in Kitintale. However, somewhere in the midst of these normal everyday experiences, I have known and loved people this week with words, handshakes and hugs.

Last Tuesday, I left the Corner Stone office to begin creating relationships with the orphans and vulnerable girls at the Ntinda Girls Youth Core Home. As we pulled up to the concrete house I was suddenly nervous. I am not often nervous around children as I work with them on a daily basis, but yet suddenly my heart was beating. What would they think of a 35 year old muzungu entering their home, disrupting their daily routine? As I stepped onto the red dusty road, I asked the Lord to help me form a connection with these street children. My life has been the polar opposite of theirs. I wondered if I could even really comprehend the sorrow and pain of being an African orphan. As I entered the gate, I found 3 girls washing their clothes in a tub beside the house. As they looked up from their wash they smiled, greeted me and invited me over. I quickly retrieved the picture of Mary Kabi and from my purse. Mary is a special mentor to these girls. Their smiles broadened even more and they began to ask question after question about Mary. Other girls then came out of the house and I was introduced as a friend of Mary. At that point, the girls ushered me into the house saying, “You are most welcome.” I smiled and shook each of their hands.

I toured each girl’s bunk in each room oohing and ahhing over their few possessions. We laughed about pictures of famous male actors they had on the walls and examined each other’s nail polish. Then I walked out to the main sitting room where the girls were listening and dancing to some rap music. They were startled when I came in and then broke down in hilarious laughter when they realized that I had caught them busting a move. This seemed like a moment to show that I may be 35 and every bit the awkward muzungu, but I have some moves of my own; so I started shaking to the beat. Now loud raucous laughter filled that place. After doing my best Saturday Night Fever impression, I suddenly decided that it was best to quit while I was ahead as far as the dancing goes, so I sat on the floor next to these girls and watched them play a board game. It wasn’t long before I was invited to play. They beat me soundly, but I left that house feeling every bit the winner. We had begun to know each other. Relationships had slowly begun to form. As I left the girls hugged me and begged me to come back. I was present with them and that made all the difference.

Veronica and her high school friends left on Saturday morning for Mbale, a rural area about four hours east of the city. They were going out to that village to tell them about the love of Jesus and to pray with them. I was moved at their love for their fellow Ugandans, especially those who are the least among them. Shortly after they left, Johnson Iwondo came to the door. He greeted me with his trademark smile. I was elated to see my dear friend. I have known Johnson for 5 years and watched him go from an orphaned boy to a confident man of God. It is like watching a caterpillar become a beautiful butterfly.

Johnson was orphaned at 11 and left with 3 other siblings to raise. Terrified and hungry he sought out help from World Vision. He was then sponsored, mentored and discipled by loving World Vision staff. In 2002 he came to my church in Minnesota to tell his story: the story of how God rescues orphans. Several weeks before Johnson and the World Vision staff came; a man named Bob called the Minneapolis World Vision office asking to meet the Ugandans. Bob lived in Stillwater, a small town about an hour north of the Twin Cities. He wanted us to drive up to Stillwater in order to show them a wheelchair he had developed. This wheelchair was equipped with mountain bike tires and was durable enough for the rugged terrain of rural Uganda. Bob was hoping our Ugandan guests would be able to give him some much-needed feedback about his design.

Our local World Vision staff listened politely to Bob’s story and then suggested he contact some other mission agencies that specialized in medical devices. However, Bob continued to call three more times each time demanding to see the Ugandans and not willing to take no for an answer. Finally, in order to appease Bob, we decided to take a morning trip to Stillwater. This trip seemed so strange and quite frankly like a total waste of time, but Bob’s persistence paid off.

So Tuesday morning arrived and Jeff, one of our local World Vision representatives, took Johnson and several others up to the quiet town of Stillwater. As they approached Bob’s house, Jeff almost apologetically explained about Bob’s wheelchair and how insistent he had been about their visit. Jeff then noticed that Johnson’s demeanor changed slightly and asked if he was feeling okay. Johnson assured him that he was feeling fine and they proceeded on to Bob’s house.

After the short introductions, Bob pointed out his wheelchair and demonstrated its usage. The whole event had not taken more than five minutes and Jeff was wondering if this whole trip had really been worth it. Almost as an afterthought, Bob casually asked if they knew of any disabled Ugandan men or women who would be willing to test it out free of charge. At this point, Johnson fell to his knees and began to sob. Needless to say, Jeff became very alarmed and rushed to his side. As we comforted him, Jeff pleaded with him to explain what had upset him so much. Had we done or said something to hurt or offend him? In between sobs, Johnson explained that there was something about his story that we didn’t know.

As we continued to hold him, we explained that his closest brother in age was born with cerebral palsy and had spent 17 years of his life dragging himself on his belly through the dirt with his deformed shaky arms. He had never attended school and had never been more than 50 feet from their house. While the other siblings were in school, he stayed by the house unable to meet his own basic needs. His brother’s name was John and he didn’t eat unless someone came and fed him and had to wet himself if there was no one to help him use the latrine. Johnson then explained that John spent most of his time in prayer. He prayed for Johnson, his other brothers and sisters and he praised God. However, his most fervent prayer was for a wheelchair. Just before Johnson left for the United States, John told him that God was going to give him a wheelchair. Johnson pleaded with his brother to be patient and that he would get him one as soon as he graduated from college. So, when Bob offered this wheelchair to Johnson, he was overwhelmed at God’s faithfulness. Suddenly, he began shouting, “God has done a miracle! God has done a miracle!” At this point we were all crying huge tears of indescribable joy.

A couple of weeks later, we sent a camera back with Johnson to film that moment when God’s faithfulness became reality to John. It was incredibly moving to watch Johnson lift his brother out of the red clay dust into this wheelchair. John began to shake violently with excitement and to try to clap his hands. He was shouting in his palsied voice, “My God is so mighty! My God is so mighty!” It was truly a glimpse of God’s glory.

As we sat in Veronica’s sitting room reliving that moment when God came close to us and provided a wheelchair for his brother John, we both shook our heads and marveled at God’s great mercy and tender care for the poor. Johnson told me that he woke up in the middle of the night after telling John about the wheelchair and heard John praying loudly thanking God for his faithfulness and telling God over and over that he will serve him with his life. Johnson said that John stayed awake all night praising the Lord. I could feel this great swell of emotion rising up imagining this disabled man using his shaky voice and palsied arms to sing and pray to God all night long. John is doing well at a school for disabled people here in Kampala and becoming much more independent every day. It is amazing how carefully God protects the poor and the needy.

After talking for some time, we left for the market to buy some meat. (Picture at top) As we approached the meat vendor, the man started loudly shouting “my muzungu, my muzungu.” It is at those times that I am reminded how odd it is that I live in this neighborhood. We then proceeded to the vegetable market where Johnson paid for my every need. He then invited another World Vision co worker to come over to our house and cook for us. She made a feast of matooke, rice and vegetables. Over dinner Johnson talked about his excitement and challenges in working for World Vision in an ADP in the far west. There is fighting there and he lives with gunshots every day. I asked him if he is afraid, but he told me that he believes that God has rescued him to rescue others, so he feels he has nothing to fear. He has used his own story countless times to encourage other orphans in his ADP. Isn’t’ beautiful to see God rescue someone only to use him to rescue others. Incredible!

On Sunday, Johnson again came to my home to take me to church. We went to a large church here in Kampala and worshipped together. I was there before the Lord with my African brother and I enjoyed every moment of it. Johnson then took me to lunch at a hotel near the church. He did not allow me to pay for anything. He treated me like an honored guest and I was so honored to receive his love and care. After lunch we walked down to the bus park. The bus park is a large area teeming with busses going in a thousand different directions. Imagine 500 hundred mini busses parked inches from each other with conductors shouting for passengers and hundreds of people milling around. Immediately, Johnson noticed my sense of being overwhelmed and grabbed my hand.
After getting on the right bus, we proceeded to Johnson’s new house. It is a lovely peaceful place and will make a good home for him and his future bride. We then sat in his house and just enjoyed being together. We really celebrated God’s incredible goodness. As we left his house I was able to talk to Johnson’s fiancé, Agnes, on the phone. I can’t wait to meet this wonderful Godly woman. I can’t wait to attend his wedding in October!

I am so proud of who Johnson has become. He is a Godly man with wisdom beyond his years. He has allowed God to heal his pain so that it can be used to encourage other children. I am glad that God has connected us and allowed us to have a deep meaningful friendship. He is my African brother and I am his American sister. I encouraged him as he grew into a man and now he has taken care of me. Here is this man that I have cared for over the last few years, this former orphan—who is now caring for my every need—he paid for my meals all weekend, he paid for my transport, he made me feel comfortable in the city, he shared his hopes and dreams with me. Is that how God works? The privileged American can be loved by a former orphan-- just as God promised-- his Kingdom will be shown through the poor. He will bless those who are weak and needy lifting them up and giving them great blessings. In God’s economy the poor become rich and the rich become poor and in the midst of it all God’s love reigns.

As an American, we long to be a part of something big. We want to feed thousands of people, save the lives of many, provide shelter for the most needy. We want to be part of some big work that makes for an eye-popping story that makes others weep. Rarely do we long to love simply—to be a part of something small. We aren’t as desperate to know and be known by those around us as much as we are desperate to do something great. This week I have started to let go of my American need to do something great and have begun to embrace the small and the seemingly insignificant. I have loved and allowed myself to be loved.



Update on my life:

I spent a majority of my week getting my bearings. Most mornings I attended chapel at the head office for World Vision here in Kampala and then most afternoons with Corner Stone, a ministry to orphans and vulnerable children. Corner Stone allowed me to visit two of their 5 guardian homes. There are 5 youth core homes here in Kampala, two homes in the Gulu area, one home in Rwanda, one home in Burundi and one home in southern Sudan. Corner Stone’s programs for these vulnerable children are vast and comprehensive and I feel I have just scratched the surface. I also was able to travel an hour outside the city to visit the Leadership Academy for Girls. This Academy is a residential high school for the most needy with the most leadership potential. The girls there are taught leadership skills alongside their regular curriculum. They also attend chapel each week and are discipled by mentors. These girls are empowered, articulate, intelligent and joyful. I was incredibly impressed. This coming week I will be traveling two hours outside the city to the Ranch, the Leadership Academy for boys. I will spend the night and get a better sense of what happens on the ranch.

This last week I also visited the International School in Lubowa, 8 kilometers outside of Kampala. This school follows the International Baccalaureate curriculum. This is the same curriculum that my school in the States follows. It was so fascinating to see how they have implemented this curriculum. There are many American, European and other diplomat children at this school. It is by far the most beautiful school I have ever seen. The headmaster invited me into his office and explained that there was a 5th grade opening and all but offered me the job. It is a paid position complete with a house near the school. I was overwhelmed at the thought of it knowing how hard this kind of decision would be for my family and close friends. The headmaster has asked me to at least interview next week. I never want to burn bridges, so I will interview and then pray about it. I have prayed for years that if I lived in Africa, I would have a paying job. At the very least God is showing me that this kind of life is possible.

I will also travel up to Gulu in the next couple of weeks and possibly to Rwanda. Next week I will start volunteering for an abandoned babies home here in town. You know what a soft heart I have for babies.

Well, life here is different every day, but I will try to keep you as much in the loop as I can. In fact, I woke up Saturday morning to some kind of loud screeching. As I looked outside I noticed that a HUGE turkey was tied next to our home. A friend of Veronica had given her a turkey. It has now been here for 3 days. Patrick, Veronica’s brother, will slaughter it tomorrow as May 1st is a national holiday here. I have to tell you I am tired of waking up at dawn to its LOUD gobbling.

Great News!!!! I was able to upload all my pictures. Just click the link on this blog site and enjoy!

Much love,
Kari