Stories

The things that I have see have done everything from inspire me in desire and faith to deeply pain me and challenge the way I am living.  I will first share a moment in which I witnessed great boldness and faith within a few young kids.

On Tuesday I drove through Kampala to get to Off-Tu, where a group of street kids gather every other week to worship, hear a message, and receive some love and food.  It began with a complete reversal of roles – rather than an adult standing up to preach, or even one of us, one of the girls quietly and confidently stood up to preach the word of God.  She spoke on the verse where the angel put a burning coal to a person’s toungue.  I don’t quite remember what followed that, but I do remember being in complete awe at her maturity and boldness in preaching, something that I have always been scared to do.  Following this, a leader of the organization stood up to preach the good news – that Christ had died for their sins and that they could have a new life in Him.  Meanwhile, my thoughts wandered unfortunately to criticisms of his approach…I thought, wouldn’t it be better if he made it more relatable and addressed to their particular situation?  I was so used to the addition of so much more to make Christianity attractable, that when it was in its plain essence, I thought it wasn’t enough.  And yet I was so wrong.  Shortly after, he asked all who wanted to accept Christ into their lives to raise their hands.  To my great surprise, about seven or eight kids raised their hands, and then after saying the prayer, three of them shared their testimony, thanking God for giving them a new life and for providing for them.  One boy was crippled and had splints on both his legs.  This boy thanked God for helping him be able to crawl on his hands down the stairs when it rained.  And he thanked Him with a smile.

I have learned so much from just listening to others stories and prayers.  For the past few nights my sisters and cousins have prayed, thanking God for the food and for His provision and then praying that He would be with those who didn’t have food, were on the streets, and even those who were dying.  They were thankful to be alive, and man, I just don’t know how to respond.  Our worlds are so different.  I so often go through the motions and thanking God for the food, but how truly thankful am I really, and when do I ever remember those who don’t have it?  But when your reality is one in which you daily encounter people going hungry and who can’t go to school because they don’t have the money, thanking God for one’s very life and food is not only normal, but heartfelt and real. 

I was honored enough to hear the story of a young girl on the way back from Off-Tu.  At first, all I knew was that she lived at the Off-Tu home and had just bravely led worship for a group of street kids.  I asked her to tell me her story…and so after a few moments of pondering her decision to tell a stranger her whole life story, she began.  She told me how she grew up in Kampala with her mother, brother and sister.  While her mother swept the streets to earn money, she collected metals off the street to sell.  She was forced to not come back to school for a whole year because she didn’t have the money for it.  She then painfully shared how a tree feel on her house and collapsed on her family, resulting in many injuries, nights of sleeping in the rain with no house, and as she described, a time of suffering.  However, this was not the end, for through a friend, she heard about an organization that could sponsor her to go to school if she had a talent.  And so she looked into it, and finding out that she could possibly dance, she was accepted, and amid her studies, she danced every afternoon.  She is now at Off-Tu, where she preaches, sings, and teaches dance to the kids.  Her dream is now to go to college at UCU, where I am, and to become a doctor that she might help her brothers and sisters also go to school, as well as help the helpless on the streets, as was done for her.  I asked her what her favorite verse was, and she immediately turned to Psalm 23 – Yea thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.  This verse took on a whole new light for me that day, as I saw a girl who had lost her dad, ate one meal a day and got crushed by her own house, to come out of that and say, in the midst of that valley, God was WITH ME.  

These stories must be heard.  Their struggles are real, and life isn’t just one of trying new exotic crispy grasshoppers and having adventures in town.  It is hard, and it calls for me to respond.  Yes, the Christians here are more joyful and perseverant than I have ever seen amidst such suffering and many truly know God, but there are still the many captive and brokenhearted that God so desperately wants to bring healing and freedom to.

 I may not be able to explain why there is suffering, but I do know a God who experienced the same pain and says, I know, me too - let me be there with you.