“Has God not chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?” James 1:5,6
Helen grew up in a family that loved her. Her parents taught her how to grow maize, groundnuts and Irish potatoes. They always had enough to eat and the food was good. She hoped one day to be a good cook like her mother. No one could make millet bread like she could. Sometimes as night, her uncles would take her into the woods to collect honey from the beehives. She would hold the fire up high over her head close to the hive to chase the bees out. Then her uncle would collect the honey. She loved eating that sweet honeycomb. On holidays when her friends and family gathered in her home she would watch her older siblings dance the traditional Acholi dance. She stood behind them and tried to copy their every move. Then her parents would light a fire and the children would listen as the adults told them stories of times long ago. Life at home was full of love and promise. She remembers being so happy. She felt like the richest little girl in the world.
As all little girls do, she grew to be a vibrant fun loving woman. She fell in love with a good man and married him in a grand celebration that the whole village attended. They built their home, planted their crops and dreamed of a great future together. Helen was excited to become a mother and to raise her children to know the rich love she had felt as a child. Her first child came and the whole family came to ooh and aah over this new fat healthy baby. Then just two years later another beautiful baby joined their family. Everything was as it should be and they wanted for nothing.
Shortly after Helen’s second child was born, rumors began to spread around the village that a group of rebels were planning to overthrow the government. She hoped they were rumors. Life was good in her village and no one wanted to go back to the days of Idi Amin. Then one day some Ugandan officers showed up at her home to talk to her husband. She longed to know what they were discussing so intently under that tree. When they left, she approached her husband. He told her that the rebels were indeed beginning to attack villages in their area. The rumors were true. He then told her not to worry-that he would protect her and their children. Suddenly, she knew what he would say next. He had joined the army and was leaving the next day to go and fight the rebels. She cried hysterically and begged him not to go--not to leave them, but he felt that the only way to really protect them was to join the army and fight.
She cried for days after he left. She lay awake each night wondering if he was alive or dead. Her neighbors told her that the rebels were getting closer and that they were ruthless and held no mercy for women and children. She was so terrified, but she had to stay strong for her children. They were so young. She tried to remain calm as she breast-feed her youngest. Even if her life was in chaos, she wanted her children to feel at peace.
One day, a relative came running up the path to her home shouting and crying. Helen ran to her fearing the worst. The woman told her that the rebels had slaughtered her sister and brother in law this morning. Helen dropped to her knees and wept. How could this be happening? Suddenly she remembered her sister’s two small children. Shaking she looked at the woman and tentatively asked about the 3 year old and the infant. “They are alive and with your father,” she said.
She could feel herself drowning in sorrow, so she asked God to give her strength. She was a mother and she knew she couldn’t fall apart—not with two young babies. So got up brushed herself off and fed her children lunch. After feeding them, she went to her father’s house to mourn with him. Helen and her father held each other and cried. It was all too much to bear. Helen knew upon entering the house that her sister’s child would only survive if she breast-fed him. So, she picked up her nephew and wept as she breast-fed her sister’s child. She stayed with her father for a couple weeks and helped with all the funeral arrangements. It was a painful time.
After two weeks, Helen made the decision to return to her home. All the children’s things were there and there were neighbors who could help her care for her sister’s children. So, with 4 children under the age of 3, she returned to the house she had built with her husband. Life was hectic. She seemed to be breast-feeding all the time. Then the other two wanted to be held and cuddled. God was her only source of comfort. He somehow gave her enough strength to keep going. She would get so afraid sometimes. The gunshots and bombs seemed to be getting closer, but when she would pray God would give her peace. Even now, she can’t explain how she felt that peace as the war raged around her.
One day, she heard her neighbors screaming, “The rebels are here.” People were frantic and running with their children. Some were screaming, some were crying and some were praying. Helen ran inside the house and saw 4 small children. There was no time. She had to run, but she couldn’t carry them all. “God forgive me,” she cried and she picked up her sister’s children and hid them under a blanket. Then she took her two children and ran wildly into the bush. Then she hid and silenced herself and her children. After several hours, all was silent and slowly people began to leave the bush. She took her children and forced herself to walk toward her house. She began to shake expecting to see her sister’s children dead. To her great relief, they were scared but alive. She held them so close and wept uncontrollably. The weight of leaving them almost crushed her. She thought of poisoning herself, but who would care for the children?
She wondered how God could love her. How could he forgive her? She felt like she had had no choice. She prayed all night and even in her deep despair, God comforted her. He came to her. She said she felt him holding her saying, “I will never leave you. I know you did the best you could. I will protect you and the children. Depend on me.”
A few days later the rebels came again. Again she chose to run with her children and to leave her sister’s children hidden in the house. As she lay silent in the bush, she prayed for those children. She asked God to supernaturally protect them. Unlike the last time, she felt the peace of God even through the loud pops of gunfire and exploding bombs. God’s presence seemed to be all around her. She could feel it in her bones. When all fell silent, she went back to the house and was shocked to find the children eating. The rebels had cooked food at her place and left some for the children. They had spared her home and her sister’s children. Helen fell to her knees and began to worship the great rescuer. God had promised to save her and the children and he did. That night instead of crying in despair, she sang out loud hymns of praise. As she closed her eyes, she could feel God’s presence. It was so peaceful and so loving.
A few days later, the rebels came again. Again she heard her neighbors begging for mercy before they were murdered. She heard people running and screaming. She went to grab her children and then stopped. She remembered that God had promised to protect her, so with her heart beating wildly she gathered all the children together. As they sat holding each other, Helen began to pray. Her voice was shaking, but she continued to talk to Jesus reminding him of his promise of protection.
Suddenly the door flew open as 3 rebel soldiers rushed in pointing their rifles at her head. They were all shouting at her. She put up her hands and continued to pray. It was loud and confusing. She began to beg them to spare her children. She had heard them slaughter her neighbors, so she was expecting the same. Still she continued to cling to God’s promise of protection. Then something miraculous happened. One of the rebels told her to get up, get her children and run. Immediately, she grabbed the infants and told the other two to grab hold of her skirt. Then they ran. As she looked back she saw them burning her home and everything she had. She had nothing but the clothes they were wearing, but God had kept his promise, she and her children were alive.
Helen’s husband never came back. The great love of her life was gone, but a new love was beginning. Over the next 20 years, Jesus has provided for Helen. He has fed her when she has had nothing to give her children. He has provided school fees in ways too miraculous to believe. He has provided places for her to live when she had nowhere to lay her head. But most of all he has never left her and he has loved her better than any man ever could.
Helen is caring for her grandchildren now as two of her own children have died of AIDS. She lives in a condemned bathhouse and sells brooms in the market. Looking at her is looking at extreme poverty. She has nothing. Her and her 6 grandchildren sleep on the floor of that old bathhouse. It is only God who feeds her. It is only God who gives her peace. It is only God who gives her joy. It is only God who loves her.
As she stood in front of the other widows and told her story of God’s great love for her, she gushed about how good God has been to her. Then she fell to her knees and raised her hands up to heaven and began to praise God for his goodness and provision. In that moment I saw her for who she really was, a bride of the King--a Queen in God’s great kingdom with all the resources of heaven at her disposal. Queen Helen, poor in the eyes of the world, but rich in the eyes of her beloved.
Update on the widows:
Praise the Lord and Bless you!!! We raised about $16,000 for the widows new land. Seven acres of land will be purchased just north of the city of Kampala. It is close to several factories where the women can find work and to an AIDS clinic. There are also several schools for the children in that area. Simon is checking on the land title and going to survey the land and do final negotiations sometime with week. Things here do move slow, but they are moving!! I have also begun researching the best way to construct houses for these dear women. Hopefully, I will have an idea of how to proceed with that before I leave. I am also hiring two interns, University students-graduates of Cornerstone Leadership Academy for Girls, to work with these widows while I am gone. These girls are fantastic!!
When I get back I am hoping to start a new 503C to help fund these projects for the widows. Everything is at the beginning stages, but if you would like to help Lisa and I feel free to contact us. I will be updating everyone on the progress of the widows project in the months to come. God is really doing something exciting!!
Update on me:
I am crying now. This is so hard to write. I am leaving these women and it is so painful. I have heard their stories over the last 4 months and I have tried to tell you just a few of them. I have now met with 103 widows hearing their stories, crying with them, laughing with them and praying with them. I have held those with AIDS close to death. I have paid medical bills. I have provided food, house rent and school fees. Yet these women have loved me more than I have loved them. They reach into their handkerchiefs where they keep their few coins and buy me a soda or put their few coins together and cook me lunch. Walking through the market the other day, Helen, who you just read about, gave me a broom and wouldn’t let me pay for it. They are planning a party for me next Tuesday. They asked me what colors my parents liked. I think they are working hard to collect money to cook for me and to make things for my family and I. I am not sure I can emotionally get through it, so pray for me.
God told me to go to Africa because he had stories for me to hear and to tell about his personality. I totally underestimated how great and glorious those stories would be. I now have a 100 of them sitting inside of me and I try to let one out for you each week, but there are so many more. I have seen God be bigger than I ever thought he could be. I have see God be more loving then I thought possible. I have see God rescue people from deep dark places. I have seen God be a husband, a father, a brother. It is so beautiful to see God being himself that I am not ready to leave. It reduces me to tears every time I think about it. Some of you will understand when I say this is another “grabbing the chair and not letting go” moment. I need someone to come and pry my fingers off. (Sorry for the inside comment, but some of you will understand what I mean.)
How can I leave here in a week? How? I am not ready. I’m not.
I am spending my week with saying goodbye and it is ripping my heart out. It hurts so much, yet I keep telling people “ I am coming back.” But I see the uncertainty in their eyes and it kills me. World Vision has asked me to speak at their chapel on Friday. Please pray that God gives me something other than a tearful goodbye to say. I told the street boys at Kibuli that I was leaving and they spent a half an hour begging me to stay, “Please auntie, who will teach us if you go? Please auntie don’t go.” Then Ezra went outside and pouted for the rest of the time. If you know how emotional I am, you know this is just killing me. Agnes, an HIV positive widow, came to the office the other day and just held me and cried. Then I have made some intensely personal relationships that I have no idea how to separate from. I keep thinking, “my life is here. I am really alive here. Why am I leaving?”
I am sorry to rant and cry and sound so nuts, but it is just where I am. I am not okay. I feel like I am falling apart. I am trying to pray and to rely on God like my widows. I am trying to learn from them how to handle this torrent of emotion. I am still so new in this kind of reliance on God, but I know God will come and he will give me strength to get on the plane and leave. I may come back and be a bit of a mess, but I know God will sort out the pieces. I need an emotional exit plan, but I am just not sure how to make one. I need help, so I keep relying on God and my friend and my widows. They love me so well and they hold me when I cry. They point me to Jesus and pray for me. We will get through it together.
I am weak, He is strong. I am sad, He has joy. I am in despair, he has comfort. I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.
Kari
