Up until this point, I had been very numb. There is so much hurt all around me and I didn't know how to react to it all.
I prayed hard on Monday night for God to wreck me, for God to break my heart for what breaks His.
Tuesday, at the hospital, He did just that.
I was kneeling beside a hospital bed where 24 year-old Patrick was lying. And where he will be lying for the rest of his life.
When he was just two years younger than me, he was abducted by the Lord's Resistance Army. He was beaten to the point of paralysis, and now he'll never be able to walk again.
I sat there and wept.
It wasn't just about praying for his physical healing, it was also about praying for his emotional healing.
He endured something that no human should ever have to go through. My mind truly cannot imagine what he experienced and the emotional scars he must have.
Patrick is just one of hundreds of thousands of people whose lives have been ruined by the LRA and one of the world's longest wars.
This isn't someone from a documentary, story, or picture.
He is a real man, with a real heart.
I can see him, I can see his hurt, and I can see his pain.
