My Friends We Are Not Crazy

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

Life without peace is really no life at all. When all peace is gone life becomes a moment-by-moment struggle to protect one’s self from despair, destruction and death. What should be certain becomes uncertain. Where you expect to find love, you find only emptiness. Deep inside, your soul becomes weary and dead to the world. Hope becomes a commodity you simply can’t afford. You are only surviving and for what? Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks and weeks turn into years.

Sadly this is the reality for many abducted children in the Gulu region of Northern Uganda where a war between the rebel group, The Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), and the Ugandan government has raged for 20 long years. Thousands have lived a better part of their lives in Internally Displaced People’s Camps (IDP). Thousands of children have been abducted and forced to kill on demand. Others have spent their short lives hiding in trees, in concrete structures, and in muddy riverbeds to escape being abducted by the rebels. Recently, Mr. David Lamojong, a long time resident of Koro-Abili camp, a large IDP near Gulu town, lamented about the suffering of his people. He simply said, “. 'We are not crazy people who enjoy seeing our people suffering and getting destroyed...'“ There is a deep longing for peace in this place. You can feel the weight of it in the air.

Within Gulu town there is another revolution entering into this long war of destruction. There is a revolution of love and peace being planted in this hotbed of violence. Two homes rest quietly in the middle of this weary place that offers peace and love to children the war has assaulted. Cornerstone Development Uganda has started two Youth Corps Family homes where boys and girls can be loved and given a peaceful place to rehabilitate from their past. These homes reach out to the homeless and directionless youth who have been beaten down by these long years of death and disease. Mentors in each home bathe them with the love of God and provide them with a new sense of family. They feed them, clothe them, shelter them and provide art, drama, and music therapy for them. Slowly, these fragile children become stronger. They learn how to love again, how to trust, how to hope and how to believe in peace. It is a long journey back to this place full of set backs and challenges, but we serve a God who says that love never fails and that peace is possible.

Each Youth Corps Family Home houses between 25-30 children. These children come with deep scars and mountains of pain. This January, Tony (14) and Morris (12) joined the boy’s home. Tony was abducted when he was small and forced into child slavery by the LRA. Joseph Kony, the commander of the LRA rebel group, forced Tony to care for his children. After three years Tony was rescued. On returning home, he found that he had lost both his parents to HIV/AIDS. He didn’t know where to go so he went back into the bush and back to LRA. Twisted as it seems, it was the only home he knew. It was a place where he could eat every day and where things were familiar. Because he went back on his own accord he was not severely punished.
Some time later, he was rescued once more during combat as bullets flew in the air and as boys fired rifles at men twice their size. Once back in Gulu town Tony went through the rehabilitation process. He was also reunited with his younger brother Morris. Tony was overjoyed to have found his brother and to have some link to the family he so desperately missed.

Tony and Morris decided to go back to Koro, a village near Gulu town. Tony then began working as a bricklayer in order to support himself and his younger brother. Each day he made brick after brick, turning the hard dry earth into a thick mud, putting the thick heavy mud into a cast and then drying it again under the heat of the sun. It was hard labor. His back ached and his body became weary. Then at the end of each day, he was given 1,000 Shillings for his backbreaking work—the equivalent to $0.50 cents. That $0.50 cents was enough for Tony and Morris to share one meal a day of porsha and beans. They were barely surviving. It seemed hope itself had abandoned them. That is when Laker (La Kay), the director of the Youth Corps Family Homes-Northern Uganda, found them. He then arranged for them to come to the Youth Core Family Boy’s Home. Slowly, slowly these boys are learning what it means to love and be loved.

Even though Tony has gone through counseling sessions, his life is still filled with bitterness and he still feels like returning to the bush—to his abductors. Tony has been in pain for so long that he doesn’t know who he is without it. When war is all you know, when the terror of violence becomes your friend, it takes the mighty warrior of love to break the bonds that evil set in place. It takes the Lion of Judah, our great warrior who defeated death once and for all, to rescue the ones that the evil one snatched for himself. No one, not even Tony, is too far gone for love to reach him—for peace to invade his soul. My friends, we are not crazy to believe that God rescues the oppressed and that he heals the most wounded of spirits.

Tony is one of hundreds of kids that are trying to understand who they are and how to become free of the abuse and terror of war. Laker has started a revolution of love and the resistance to it is great and there is no doubt a war raging in the heavenlies among the angels. With the full armor of God, Laker and his mentors continue to use the weapon of love to create peace in the lives of those they have rescued. They are trusting in God to do the impossible—to heal the wounded souls of these children. They are zealous in their passion for Jesus, their mighty warrior, and for the least and the lost among them.

How about you? Are you ready for battle? Do you see the children being stolen—their capacity for love and peace being ripped from their souls? Just like the story of the Samaritan we can look from the other side of the road, weep for them but continue on our life’s journey preoccupied with our daily responsibilities or we can stop, approach them, enter into relationship with them as they heal. The Samaritan used his resources to create the environment for healing. Will you use yours?



Update on the Widows:

Last week I recounted a humbling encounter with a widow who is HIV positive. She came hungry, terribly sick and depressed. She stood before us and cried. Then the rest of the widows began to empty the few coins they had from their pockets into the hands of this suffering widow. I thought about her all week. I wondered how she was. I wanted to somehow have another chance to bless her in some way—to show the love I had wanted to give to her the first time.

When I went to the widows group this Thursday, I searched the crowd for Jane’s sunken face; but she was not to be found. I wanted to show her the love that had been sent from across the ocean. My best friend created a beautiful scrapbook filled with encouraging words and scriptures. The book was created to give these widows a tangible reminder that we are sisters in Christ no matter how much distance separates us. As I shared the book with the widows they cheered, shook their heads and smiled from ear to ear. Then each of them got a chance to look at it. Their hands carefully turned each page, read each word and their hearts breathed in the love from across the ocean. The woman who made this book has also made a commitment to help these women with her resources. Here are mothers connecting from across the ocean through Christ and in love. That is what I wanted this dear sick neglected widow to see.

After the meeting I asked Rosemary where Jane was. She told me that she tried to come to the meeting, but was shaking with fever; so they sent her home to rest. I told them that I wanted to come the next day to see her and pray with her. If she needed anything I wanted to provide it freely and this time without reservation.

On Friday afternoon, I went to Nakowa to meet Joyce, Jane’s neighbor, as I was desperate to see this sick widow. As I approached the small three room concrete home, I saw this frail extremely thin woman sitting on a stool washing vegetables. She stood slowly and I greeted her. She hugged me with all the strength she had and I held her. Her fever was gone and she had some life back in her eyes. Joyce had come early in the morning to pray with her. She told her not to fear—that God had a plan for her life—that God healed the blind man and that he could heal her. After they prayed, Jane began to feel more encouraged and to regain some strength back. Then another widow, Ruth, came to pray with her. It was this incredible support from her fellow widows that allowed her to again trust God to do the impossible.

Jane had gone to a near by hospital and was told that she had TB, so she is now on ARV’s as well as a strong TB medication. These medicines are powerful and have powerful side effects, so Joyce knows that she will have to come often to help Jane care for her last born child who is two years old and like any two year old, she is busy, busy, busy. Jane’s other three children are back in the villages with relatives, as the relatives will not allow her children to be with her. Once her husband died of AIDS and the fact that she is now positive is stigmatized in her village, so her children were taken by relatives and she was kicked off her property and everything she had was taken from her. In fact, Jane told me that the relatives had even told her children and fellow villagers that she was already dead. The pain in which she talked about this injustice was overwhelming. What do you say? How do you respond to pain of this magnitude?

After listening to her pain and sorrow, I asked if we could pray together. She agreed and I closed my eyes imagining God sitting in his red royal throne with his crown of thorns pressed into his head with radiant light surrounding him on all sides. I knelt in front of him and asked him to love and care for Jane, his beloved widow. She was sick. She was rejected. She was heart broken. She felt hopeless. She was without so much. It was now time for the God of compassion to intervene-to put right what had gone wrong. To create resources for this widow so that she would know that she was not alone. I prayed that love would descend down heavily on her in all forms—physical relief, emotional relief and social relief. As I finished praying, I asked her if she had enough to eat. She said that the other widows were keeping her well fed and that she was relieved to now be eating. God says that he resides with the poor and in fact he does.

Already, God has spoken to many of you about these widows and you have freely offered your resources. God is literally answering my fervent prayers through you! Keep the momentum going. If you know others who want to help, encourage them to give like the widows. Anyone interested should contact Lisa Tschetter at lisatschetter@comcast.net She will help you get involved and get your resources to the right place. Otherwise feel free to contact me at kari.miller@usfamily.net Please click the photo link to see the widow’s pictures.

Update on my life:

I have now been living at the Kabi house and loving it! The house is so warm and inviting. Simon has been a great host and I have to say makes great pancakes! I am feeling much more comfortable using the public transportation and doing well getting around town. I had another great week with the boys at the Kibuli house. They are slowly learning English and accepting me as their “auntie.” I love being the “mom” of the house! This week Cornerstone hosted about 15 American college students so it was hectic around the office! Most of them have left so I think this week with be a little quieter.

On Friday, I had quite a scare—suddenly my computer began to erase all my files—all my email, all my documents—gone! Naturally, I started crying and praying. Those of you who know me well will not be surprised. However, it is NOT culturally appropriate to cry at work, so this caused quite a stir. Everyone looked extremely uncomfortable, but I had heard through someone else that there was ONE Mac store/repair here in town; so I told Charles to help me get there. Just to get me to stop crying, he quickly put me on a Bodaboda and sent me on my way. So, here I was crying on the back of a motorbike with my backpack strapped to my back. The Bode driver kept looking back with a puzzled look on his face. I am sure he was thinking-what is wrong with this muzungu?

When we arrived at the center of town, we found the one Mac place in town and I prayed that they would be able to fix it!! As I went into the store Charles begged me to stop crying as he said it would not help the situation, I tried, but just couldn’t hold it together. Well, now everyone in the Mac store looked extremely uncomfortable. Can we say culture clash? Anyway, the man took one look at my laptop and fixed it in 5 minutes and for about $10. Somehow the main directory of my computer had been put in the trash. I have no idea how that happened, but I am glad that my computer is back to normal. Praise the Lord!!

This weekend has been quiet and restful. I hope it has been that way for you too! I am leaving for Gulu on Tuesday and will not be back until next Sunday, so if you email and I don’t respond right away, know that I will as soon as I get back in town. I uploaded some images Laker, the director for Gulu, took last week. If you want to see where I am going click on the pictures link.

Much love,
Kari