At Home With The Widows

“Sing to God, sing praise to his name, extol him who rides on the clouds—his name is the Lord—and rejoice before him. A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” Psalms 68: 4,5


It is an awkward thing when you see poverty and suffering up close and personal. It is one thing to see a malnourished child with flies hovering over his mouth on television, but quite another to bend down shake hands with him and to stare into his withdrawn eyes. Poverty and suffering from a distance are tolerable. It is easy to walk away from it and believe that things are not really as bad as they look on TV. However, it is quite another when the underweight snot nosed child stares up at you, clings to your skirt and asks you for your time and attention. Your heart starts to beat faster and you begin to sweat as you stand still and hold that child. Suddenly, the effects of poverty and suffering stare you right in the face daring you to do something about their presence. The moment intensifies and our first instinct is to run—to get away from the pain, but we follow a God who doesn’t run from suffering. In fact we serve a God who embraces it. A God who promises to turn our mourning into dancing and our grieving into shouts of joy. We serve a God who loves those malnourished orphans and suffering widows.

I was invited into God’s holy dwelling this week. Several widows invited me into their homes where I listened to their powerful stories of suffering and sat beside them as we prayed to the God that loves them. Have you ever known that you were in a holy place? Have you ever been somewhere and felt the very hairs on the back of your neck stand up? In those moments something deep within your spirit recognizes that the divine has now come close enough to touch. As I entered each widow’s home, I saw the evidence of poverty and I heard their painful stories of loss and to be honest there were times when I felt like it was too much to bear. How do you sit with a woman twice your age and hold her as she cries because she cannot feed her children every day. However, each time we began to pray the hairs on the back of my neck would stand at attention and I would know that God was in that place. I am yet to fully comprehend the ways of Jesus but I know now in a deep place that God dwells with the fatherless and the widows.

Slowly I walked up to a three room concrete home. Suddenly a woman showed up at the door with three little children clinging to her skirt. She smiled broadly, hugged me and welcomed me into her home. We sat in a small room where pictures of those who are no longer with her hang on the wall. They are visual reminders of her deep pain of loss. Joyce is an Acholi from Northern Uganda. She grew up in a war zone learning early how to run from the fighting and where the best places to hide were. One day, she heard the familiar sounds of bullets and soldiers, so she ran to hide. After the violence was over, she returned home to find her parents in a pool of their own blood. As a 15-year-old girl, she was terrified, but she pulled their bodies from the open space and began to prepare them for burial. After their death, she stayed with some of her relatives until she got married. One day soldiers killed her husband forcing her to leave the northern part of Uganda with her small daughter. Then just last year her only daughter was killed in a traffic accident in Kampala. As if that was not enough, her remaining siblings have all died due to war and AIDS, so she is now caring for 15 of her siblings children. I am not sure even how 15 children fit into those three rooms. As I was getting up to leave she grabbed my hands and began to cry, “I’m alone. Everyone in my family is dead and I am the only one remaining. Why? Why did I live?” I reached my arms around her and then I looked her in the eye and said, “I see you. I hear you. I see the pain on your face, but I don’t why God allows some to die while others live. Please know that I will not forget you and neither will the people who hear about you.” We prayed and asked God to intervene in her life and to provide for her children. God seemed to be crying with us. He was present. Then we talked about the new land that is coming and the people in America who have decided to support her and the other widows. Slowly a small bit of hope began to spread across her face.

Then Joyce asked me to visit her friend. Joyce told me that this woman was really suffering. I was still trying to take in the great sense of loss I felt from her, so I wasn’t sure what she meant by “a woman who is really suffering.” Her friend was also Acholi and had come south after soldiers killed her husband. Some of her children have now died and she is caring for 6 of her grandchildren. As we came to her dwelling, I suddenly understood Joyce’s concern. This elderly woman and her children were living in an old bathhouse. It is a small structure originally intended for people to use for bathing and it had fallen into disrepair, as it had not been used for many years. It smelled moldy and musty. It was very dark and dank inside and not fit for a goat let alone a woman and her six children. They have no furniture and lay on the floor to sleep. They have no outhouse so; they must use a neighbor’s. It has no house number as it is slated to be condemned. It was never intended to be used as a home. It was so difficult not to just break down and cry. I wanted to scream and get angry at the injustice of it all. How can this be happening? All I could do was hold her and begin to pray. There was more righteous anger in that room than just mine. The Holy Spirit seemed to be present and his righteous anger over this injustice seemed to dwarf my own. I felt that divine presence so clearly; I almost thought it might become visible.

I spent 7 hours going from house to house. Hearing one story of loss after another. Experiencing God’s presence as I prayed with each widow. I held poverty’s hand and looked suffering in the eye. I embraced them and was shocked to find the God of the universe there. It seems he dwells there.

God loves these women and he will not rest until his followers take notice and do something about it. Pray but do not forget to act. Over the last few weeks, some people from the United States have listened to God’s love for the widows and decided to take action. They have sent money for these widows to purchase a land of their own where they can build new homes for themselves. They have begun to partner with these women to meet their needs. They have decided to hold the hand of poverty and look into the eyes of the suffering. We are a new generation of Christ followers that know the beauty of embracing the poor. So, next time you see poverty whether from a distance or clinging to your skirt, stay there in that moment. Know them, pray for them and do something about it.

Update on the widows:

As you have just read I have started spending my time visiting each of the 100 widows. It is a large undertaking and emotionally exhausting, but my favorite time of the week. I can tell you that the needs are immense. Last week, I gave some money to help one of the widows clear up a vaginal infection and am happy to report that she is now on medication. Two of the widows I visited were shaking with fever as they had malaria. Both of them did receive treatment for it. I have now visited over 20 widows and each one told me that housing was there primary concern. They are not sure what will happen when they are kicked out of their homes (if you can call them that.) So, there only hope is you!! They have organized a representative committee of widows to work with a lawyer to find a good piece of land. They are currently looking at land. When they find a piece of land that they all agree on, they will want to purchase it. I am hopeful that it will be sometime in July. Simon Kabi is also helping these widows create a written plan and budget.

I think we have now raised about $4,500 but are hoping to raise $15,000. Right now an anonymous donor has offered a matching gift up to $5,000, so if you gave $100 the donor would also put in $100. This is a great time to give as it will double your efforts!! If you are interested in giving to this project please contact Lisa Tschetter at lisatschetter@comcast.net She will be glad to help you and to keep you updated! All donations are tax deductible.

Update on my life:

Well, I have now been here for 3 months and I couldn’t be happier! It is really starting to feel like home. Simon Kabi has been a great host and I have enjoyed having a friend from home here too. This city has started to feel less foreign and new and more like a comfortable place to live. I still have not explored everything here, but it is nice to know that I am now officially a Ugandan Muzungu. Even the staff at Cornerstone has begun to tell new visitors that I am a local not a visitor. “ Oh no, she is Ugandan.” I love when they say that!

This weekend I went to a wedding. The church service was quite similar except for the beautiful African wear, but the reception was quite different. First, the bride and groom entered then the groom’s tribal dances were done by a professional troop. They were fantastic. The best part was when the groom’s family joined in. Then began to 3 hour-long series of speeches. This part was just too much for me to bear, so I went out into the parking lot to talk with the others who had wandered outside. After the speeches, we all ate traditional Ugandan food and talked with one another. It lasted from 2pm to 8:30, so it was definitely an all day affair.

This week I will go to the Uganda Visa office to extend my visa, as it will run out before I leave in August. Please pray that this goes smoothly! I will be visiting more widows, teaching English with the boys at Kibuli, and working on some writing projects. The following week I will be in Rakai seeing all of my sponsored kids. I can’t wait!

I will leave you with one funny story—I went to a bank to change some of my dollars over to shillings. Often a painful experience as the dollar continues to drop in value every week. Anyway, I gave the teller my money and she gave me the shillings. Later that night I was at a grocery store. As I handed the clerk the money, she looked it over then pushed an alarm button. The manager and security came over to inspect the bill. I was starting to feel a bit nervous. Then they asked me where I got it and explained that it was a fake. I was so shocked! Anyway, all of my other money is fine, except for this 20,000 Schilling note, which is worth about $12. TIA!!!!!

Well, love to you all!

Kari

PS. I added more pictures to the widows and friends files. Check it out!