So much has happened this week I don't even know where to begin. This is why I came to Africa, and it's what will bring me back.
My heart has been broken for Kyampisi, Uganda and the incredible people who live there. I guess the best I can do is summarize, and try to convey some sense of why it touched us all in a deep and lasting way.
I'll start by introducing the very first child we met at Jesus House – Alan. His full story, which you can read at kyampisi.org, will make you head spin and your heart hurt. This beautiful, mischievous, ticklish 7-year-old has an axe wound in his skull and can't sleep through the night because he still vividly remembers the night he was attacked, kidnapped, tortured, and left for dead. Alan is a victim of attempted child sacrifice, and his story is not as uncommon as you'd think. He is a living, breathing, dancing, djembe-playing miracle, and we all fell in love instantly.
Baby Moses is a 3-month, 4-pound orphan whose mother, who was already wasting away from AIDS, died during childbirth. We'll find out August 5 if Moses is HIV positive too.
Faizo is a student at the school that Jesus House runs. Rachel and I are going to sponsor him, so we went and visited him at his grandmother's house. He lives in a brick hut with a bunch of other people. It's dark and hot and smells miserable. The mattress that he shares is honestly, not as nice as the bed we bought my dog for Christmas. His shoes and clothes are literally falling apart, and when we hugged him he didn't know what to do with his arms.
It's not okay for children to live like this. It's not okay that the water in Kyampisi is stagnant, moldy, and dirty and diseased and it's all they have to cook with, bathe in, and drink. It's not okay that Alan can identify his attackers but the law's so messed up that they can't be prosecuted, so his life is still very much in danger.
The injustices I saw in Kyampisi broke me. But in the midst of all the pain and evil and dispair, Jesus House offer something greater: Love and Hope. In a few short days of partnering with this ministry, we can tangibly see the difference they are making. We dug wells so that there can be clean water, cleared land for construction, taught in the school. We rocked Baby Moses to sleep and hugged and kissed Alan almost more than he could stand, and we left a depressed-looking wooden school building bright blue.
We got blistered, bitten, and dirty. We spent ourselves this week for Jesus House and for Jesus' children. This, I think, is what it means to be the hands and feet of Christ. To be broken for the things that break God's heart, and to let him heal you while you put faith into action.
