“Goffing” Around in Uganda

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“Goff” is a verb.  It is the act of turning anything one can imagine into a caper.

I have never had even one dull moment with Bob Goff.  Time spent with Bob never fails to make me laugh, cry, and think.    The past few days have fit the pattern perfectly.

On Thursday morning, I left Kampala at 5:00 a.m. heading north to Masindi where I was to meet up with Bob and a crew of others from the United States.  Bob and company had been in Gulu for several days and were making their way back down to Kampala via Masindi.  I needed to be in Masindi anyway for an important meeting in conjunction with a legal guardianship matter that has gotten hung up in the system.

The drive to Masindi was more emotional than I expected it to be.  As I rode the three hours under the cover of darkness, my mind drifted back to January of 2010, when I traveled the same road at about the same time.  Shortly thereafter, I met Henry and fell deeply in love with a country and with the idea of endeavoring to improve an underdeveloped criminal justice system.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the High Court – the place Henry was vindicated in one case, then convicted in another – all of the emotions associated with this town, both good and bad, flooded back.  I had a chance to meet with the judge who convicted Henry nearly two years ago, and the other judge who sentenced him to probation.  I had the opportunity to update the sentencing judge on Henry, and he was thrilled to hear that Henry was thriving.  The judge who convicted him has no idea that I will soon be seeking to overturn this conviction in the court of appeals.  This judge is a good man, a really good man, but he got this one wrong and I intend to prove it.  As you might expect, he and I did not discuss Henry at all.  The meeting about the legal guardianship matter went as well as hoped, and there will likely be a new hearing on this case early next week.  I will speak more freely about this once things move into the public phase.

After the legal guardianship meeting, I met up with Bob’s crew again (I had a chance to hang out with this team at the Cornerstone House for former child prostitutes earlier in the week.  You can read Joline’s and Jessica’s posts about this experience here and here, respectively).  The Goff crew includes pastors from Rancho Santa Fe and Portland, a doctor from San Diego, a school teacher from Seattle, a couple guys who work in missions for a church in Atlanta, a photographer from Austin, a writer from Irvine, a father and daughter from Nashville, an attorney from Pittsburgh, a missionary from another part of Africa, and Hero’s surrogate father during his stay in Southern California for his surgery (I had gotten to know (and pray with) Ted Worrell while we waited together for Hero to emerge from his reconstructive surgery late last year).  Those in this crew have three things in common – a deep and abiding love for God, a desire to follow the example of Jesus, and some connection to Bob Goff.

From the courthouse, we all traveled out to the third meeting of witch doctors Bob has convened in the past few months.  I was with him for the first one in November that was held in Mukono and it was surreal.  The second such meeting took place in Gulu earlier this week – I wasn’t able to attend this one, but I am told it ended with Bob washing feet.  This third one was in Masindi, and the location was not accidental.

Masindi is where then eight year-old Hero was drugged, dragged, hacked, and left for dead.  By the grace of God, Masindi is also where Hero fought for his life, identified his assailant, and testified in the trial that convicted the witch doctor.  Hero’s case is well known by everyone in the area and was the topic of much of the discussion.  At this conference, like the others, the witch doctors were put on notice that the relatively new law in trafficking in body parts carries with it the death penalty and it will be relentlessly prosecuted.

Hero’s mom still lives in Masindi and wasn’t able to get to Kampala to welcome Hero back to Uganda when he landed last weekend.  In fact, Ted Worrell, with whom Hero lived in the United States, hadn’t ever met Hero’s mom (though they had spoken on the phone) and was eager to do so.  During one of the breaks in the conference, I caught a blur of a blue dress out of the corner of my eye as the woman wearing it gave me a bear hug.  Ugandans are huggers by nature, as am I, so I hugged back.  As we released our embrace, I realized that it was Hero’s mom.  We had spent a couple days together in November before Hero left and had gotten to be friends.  I gave her another hug, looked around until I found what I was looking for, and then led her by the hand over to introduce her to someone.

“Ted, I would like you to meet someone very special.  This is Hero’s mom.”  My voice cracked and faded as I explained to Hero’s mom who Ted was.  Tears, hugs, and snot bubbles ensued.

And that was just me.

They were both crying also.  Hero’s mom dropped to her knees and thanked him through her sobs of gratitude for being the father to Hero that he never had.  (Hero still refers to Ted as “daddy.”)  Ted pulled her to her feet and thanked her for the opportunity he and his family had to be a part of Hero’s life.  It was quite a touching moment.

Hero's Mom and Ted Worrell

Also at the witch doctor conference was a man named William, who was the probation officer/warden at the Remand Home where Henry had lived for nearly two years.  William and Henry had gotten to be close, and I was pleased to be able to update him on Henry’s new life.  Unfortunately, William informed me that the Remand Home had filled up again and we discussed the possibility of another team of lawyers traveling to Masindi to prepare the cases for trial.

That afternoon, we hung out with the High Court judge in Masindi (discussed above) at his house.  We had the opportunity to pray for and with him as he seeks to deliver justice to Ugandans.

That evening (Thursday), we traveled halfway back to Kampala and stayed at a ranch owned and operated by Cornerstone.  I wish I had more time to write about how special that place is (and the American woman named Maggie who runs it), but suffice it to say that food and the fellowship were both outstanding.  Maggie is throwing lots and lots of starfish who have washed up on shore.

On Friday morning, Bob, John Niemeyer (Restore’s Country Director and one of my favorite people in the world), the two pastors, and I got up early and drove back to Kampala.  More specifically, we drove to Luzira – the maximum security prison where the witch doctor who dismembered Hero is serving a fifty-year sentence.  Margaret, a court registrar who is also a pastor, met us there.

Last time I was here in November, Bob, Margaret, and I went to visit the witch doctor in prison.  During that visit, the witch doctor surrendered his life to Jesus.  If you haven’t read that story, I encourage you to do so now.  Here it is.  Notwithstanding the fact that I wrote it, it is well worth the read and will prepare you for my next post tomorrow, when I describe all the Goffing that happened during this unforgettable visit.

Who is my neighbor?

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When we told our family and friends that we were moving to Uganda for six months, a few asked if we were going to live in a mud hut and have an outhouse.  I’m not kidding!  Don’t feel silly if you were one of those people – it was a fair question.  The answer is no, we are not living in a mud hut.  We are living in a modern apartment with electricity and running water (and indoor toilets).  It may sound like I’m trying to justify our choice of where we live, but we feel like we need to provide our family with a safe and clean environment.  When we work during the day at one of the mobile medical clinics with Africa Renewal Ministries, we do use outhouses and work in buildings that are just a step up from mud huts.  These clinics have been located in various places, some far and some near.  When we were told that we were going to work in a clinic this week in Namuwongo, I had no idea how near it was.  Namuwongo is a stone’s throw away from our apartment in Bugolobi.

Namuwongo is just across swamp from our apartment in Bugolobi

Okay, so maybe it is a baseball’s throw away.  But it’s really close (about 500 yards).  In this photo, you can look across the swamp and see the tiny buildings with metal roofs on the edge of the swamp.  The only thing separating us is the swamp, which provides a sanctuary for many birds, but also mosquitoes.

The "streets" of Namuwongo

Children playing in trash heap next to train tracks

Crowded living space

The difference between Bugolobi and Namuwongo is like day and night.  This is the worst area I have seen in Uganda in terms of poverty and unclean living conditions.  The neighborhood we visited is made up of rows and rows of shacks, most made of wood planks and covered with metal roofs, with dirt floors and no electricity or running water.  The church, where we set up the medical clinic, consists of wood planks for walls and an orange tarp for a roof.  The 20 foot by 20 foot space was packed with wooden benches – barely room to move about.  Our team was welcomed by Pastor Abbey who shepherds many of the people in this community.  We were offering free medical screenings and medicine to children under 10 years old, and Pastor Abbey offered to counsel and pray with the families who visited the clinic.  During the two-day clinic, 242 patients were seen and 41 people (parents of the children being treated) accepted Jesus as their Lord.  A little girl who attended the church had been trying to get her mother to come to church with her, but she had refused to do so for a long time.  The girl convinced her mother to come to the clinic with her, and her mother accepted Jesus.  This clinic not only provided physical health, but spiritual health.

Patients waiting to be seen by doctor

Joline & Jessica working in pharmacy

Jessica and I worked as pharmacists at the clinic on the second day.  Actually, Jessica was the pharmacist and I was her assistant.  She has had more experience in pharmacy and knows how to decipher the doctors’ shorthand.  My job was to fill orders that Jessica would give me, most of which required counting and often cutting pills into child appropriate doses.  As each order was filled, Jessica would explain to the mom (through our translator Eva) how to give the medications.  It was a privilege to work with my daughter all day and see how good she is at doing her job.

The hard part of this clinic was working in the tiny church that felt like a sauna, smelled like an outhouse, was crowded with mothers holding crying babies and had more flies than you could shake a stick at (I don’t even know what that means, but I was wishing for a stick).  We were thankful that we had newspaper to fan ourselves and to shoo away the flies from our pharmacy table.  We sat on a small wooden bench on the uneven dirt floor, with sweat dripping off of us.  We didn’t want to drink too much water because we would have to find an outhouse (not sure they even had one).  Little children outside the shack would peak through the wooden planks behind us, calling, “Mzungu” (sounds like ma-zoon-goo).  It was good that our work kept us busy, so we were distracted from the heat, sounds, and smells.  But when we did have a moment, in between filling prescriptions, we could look up and see the beautiful faces of the mothers and children we were there to help.  These are our neighbors across the swamp.  These are the beautiful starfish we have been called to rescue.

Reducing Child Mortality

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Post from Joline and Jill:

For every 1,000 live births in Uganda, 137 children under the age of five die.  To put this into perspective, in the United States, that number is 7.5 children.

Why are so many kids in Uganda not making it to their fifth birthday?  The majority of the deaths are caused by malnutrition and disease, both of which are preventable.  Many children could be saved with proper nutrition, better hygiene, mosquito nets, and basic vaccinations and antibiotics.

Uganda has a goal of reducing the child mortality rate in the next three years from 137 to 57 (which was the world average in 2010).  Many organizations are doing great work to help with this goal.  We have had the privilege of working with one such organization called Africa Renewal Ministries.  One of the ways they are helping children is through the Early Childhood Development Program in Gaba, which we visited earlier this month.  This program is helping give young preschoolers (ages one to three years old) a chance to beat the odds.  Africa Renewal searches for the children in the most desperate need in the community and invites them into this program.  In addition to learning their ABC’s, these children are receiving the nutrition and health care they need to make it to their fifth birthdays.  You can read more about our visit in our prior posts:

http://www.throwingstarfish.com/2012/03/precious-preschoolers/

http://www.dueunto.blogspot.com/2012/03/weekend-and-monday-update.html

Africa Renewal Ministries is providing help and hope for these children.  Families are encouraged to pay a small fee to help support the school, but this does not even cover the expenses for their own child.  When these children reach the age of three, they will only be able to continue in an Africa Renewal school program if they have a sponsor. At this time, only 6 out of the 50 children in the ECDP have current sponsorship.  All of the remaining 44 children in this program are in great need, but after speaking with the teachers, here are a few children who would be at the top of the list.

Andrew

Barnabas

Blessing

Dinah

Hadijah

Jonathan

Jordan

Mark

Melvin

Nakato

Prince

Shanita

Sharifa

If you are interested in finding out more about sponsorship, please visit the Africa Renewal Ministries website:  http://www.africarenewal.org/

 

Trip to the Girls’ Home

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What would you do to be able to go to school? Drive half an hour? Walk through the snow? Go uphill both ways? Sell everything you are? It’s heartbreaking to know how much we take school for granted when there are young girls that will literally sell themselves for the tiny amount of money it takes to go to overcrowded public schools here. These girls are my age. I’m so disgusted by the kind of person that they have to go to for that money. For those of you who have daughters, I want you to imagine them having to go through that just so they can go to a place where there are up to 100 students per teacher. I hope that makes you sick because that is what God sees every time a girl is needlessly used. Something in you should say, “That’s not okay with me.” One of the girls spoke about how before she came to the home, she felt completely worthless. These girls are beautiful and sweet and amazing and the world makes them feel like trash. It makes you wonder what Jesus wrote in the sand. Because Jesus is what has healed these girls. The “aunties” that run the home told us that they teach the girls about the life of Jesus because he is the best model for our life. The oldest girl, instead of being angry about what has been done to her in the past, spoke about letting go of anger in order to truly receive God’s blessings. Letting go of the fact that that car cut you off this morning seems easy when compared to letting go of sexual abuse. The girls at this home (at least the ones that have been there for longer than a few months) are confident and eloquent and you can clearly see how Jesus has transformed their lives. It’s hard to explain, but these ex-child prostitutes have more joy in their hearts than almost every single Christian I know. They know that it’s not about who you were, but who you are through Christ.

Hero’s Return and New Births

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Late last night, a Ugandan Hero returned home.  This Hero had been in the United States for reconstructive surgery since November to “fix” injuries inflicted by a witch doctor.  For more on why this little boy is my biggest Hero, click here.  Fittingly, he returned to Uganda with Bob Goff, the guy who brought him to the United States for surgery and the guy who orchestrated the prosecution of the witch doctor, and with Ted Worrell, who provided Hero with a family in the United States while he recovered after the surgery.

Bob and Hero at the Ugandan Airport Returning Home!

In other news, today was a double birthday here in Uganda.  We had the chance to sing “Happy Birthday” to Henry today over the phone as he celebrated his 19th birthday in the best school in Uganda.  I still vividly recall wishing him happy birthday two years ago today while he was languishing in a Ugandan jail.  By God’s grace, as Henry constantly reminds us, he has come so far.

Henry also told us that Rosella had a cow today.  “Rosella” (named after my mother), is one of the nine cows we purchased for Henry’s family to replace those they lost while Henry, his brother, and his father were wrongly imprisoned.  For more on the cow purchasing, click here.  Mother and baby cow are said to be doing fine, and Henry’s family is thrilled to have number ten.

The Gash family was blessed today to spend a couple hours at a home run by Cornerstone in Kampala for former child prostitutes.  As Joline describes in her post today, it was so heartbreaking to meet these girls who are the same ages as our daughters who had been forced into prostitution.  It was also so heartwarming to hear their stories of redemption and rebirth as they are back in school and feeling so loved by God and by those nurturing them back to physical, psychological, emotional, and spiritual health.  We will be back to visit them soon.

Finally, we were thrilled that two families we have gotten to know this past week were granted legal guardianship over two darling Ugandan orphans who were desperately in need of a family.  It was a joy to be there at the courthouse when they received the news that their petitions were granted.  I had absolutely nothing to do with these petitions being successful, but I am hoping to be helpful to a different family this next week.  They have authorized me to seek prayers on their behalf as they are currently facing a denial for a visa to enter the United States based upon some underdeveloped Ugandan law on mental illness in parents.  Please pray for the Doyle family of Tennessee and the baby they love so dearly, Hannah Eden.  More on this case in the next week or so.

Life Changing

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This weekend we have seen life-changing work – medical, physical, and spiritual.

The kids and I spent Saturday with the Gregston family, helping at a one-day medical clinic which took place at a church near Kampala.  The clinic was organized by a group of Kampala-area doctors, dentists, other health care professionals and pastors/counselors who volunteer once a month at various locations where medical and spiritual care is needed.  A large banner above the dirt road in front of the church advertised free medical care, so the church was filled with people from the community.  It did not matter if they were members of the church, or even if they were Christians, they were welcome.  Over 300 people were examined by doctors, prayed with, and received medication during the few hours that we spent there.  When the people left that church they were in better physical and spiritual health than when they entered.

Jennifer greeting child at registration

Jessica, Joshua, and Joline working in pharmacy

Church filled with community members needing medical care

We thought today was going to be a nice day to visit with Bob Goff and his group of friends who just arrived in Kampala last night.  As often happens when you spend five minutes with Bob, we were in for a surprise!  As our family arrived at the hotel where Bob was staying, he and his group were getting ready to depart to visit a home for girls started by an organization called Cornerstone.  Bob wanted to visit there because he is preparing to start a similar home in another location in Uganda.  So we jumped back into our car and followed the other cars to the girls’ home.  We found out that this home is restoring life to teenage girls who were rescued from poverty and prostitution.

When we arrived at the home, the girls welcomed us warmly and asked us to be seated in the living room.  Then they lead a beautiful time of worship with singing, praying, traditional dancing, and testimony about their lives.  Over and over, we heard them praise God for changing their lives from despair to hope.  The work that Cornerstone is doing with these girls is truly life changing.  As I sat on the couch next to Jessica and Jennifer, my eyes filled with tears as I listened to these girls who are about the same age as my daughters. It was both heartbreaking and inspiring.  I was thankful for a prayer at the end of our time so I could wipe my eyes before we were lead on a tour of the home by the girls.  They were so happy to show us where they live and show us some of the beautiful beaded jewelry they made.  One of the girls took Jessica and Jennifer by the hand and walked with them during the tour.  My girls made plans with her to come back to visit the girls at the home before we leave Uganda.

Our experience in Uganda has not only been life changing for those we meet, but also for us.

Traditional dance

Jennifer and Jessica touring home for girls

Reflections from Uganda on “Kony 2012”

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Like more than 80 million others around the world, I have watched the moving and professionally done “Kony 2012” video produced by Invisible Children.  Unlike the vast majority of those who have watched the 30-minute video, however, I am actually in living in Uganda and have had the opportunity to experience this phenomenon from the inside.

I will leave to the social scientists to explain why this is the most widely viewed video in the shortest amount of time in the history of the world.  I simply hope to offer a few thoughts and a window into how the video is being received here in Uganda, both in the popular press and by those who lived through the nightmarish war in the north.

From my perch in Kampala, it appears to me that Americans are choosing sides – pro and con.  Though that is likely too simplistic.  More accurately, Americans appear to be choosing whether they are for or against Indivisible Children as an organization and/or its founders.  While there are those who contend that the issues surrounding the war in Northern Uganda is much more complex than the 30-minute video captures (duh), no one appears to be coming out in favor of Joseph Kony or the LRA.  That is a good thing, for he is a very bad man.

So what are people against, exactly, and why?  And how do Ugandans feel about this video?

In the immediate wake of the release of this video, Invisible Children was the subject of quite a bit of criticism based upon the way it uses its money and the alleged lack of transparency relating to its finances.  IC immediately responded in a way that seemed to provide much-needed clarification in light of the criticisms.  Here is their response.  I have neither the time nor the inclination to independently assess whether they are using their money in precisely the way I (or anyone else) think they should use it.  But they make crystal clear that they are an advocacy organization and that among their core functions are (i) producing high-quality videos that bring awareness to the plight of otherwise-forgotten children in Africa, and (ii) traveling around the country and world in an effort to build awareness.  It seems to me indisputable that they are doing an excellent job on first point, as witnessed by the fact that most of the developed world is talking about Joseph Kony right now.  And with respect to the second point, I can personally attest that traveling around the world in an effort to get things done is very expensive.  It is also true that there is no substitute for being here, there, and everywhere in person.

I personally don’t know the founders of IC – I met one of them only briefly and he seemed like a good guy to me.  One of my former students works for IC, and I know he is a stellar guy.  (Hey Jed).  I also know that what IC did about a decade ago to put a spotlight on Uganda and the “Night Commuter” children was nothing short of spectacular.  Their original video inspired a generation of young people to look beyond themselves and to come to Uganda, Congo, and other places in Africa and around the world in order to bring relief to the suffering.  That simply is not in dispute.  (Please do not allow the recent public indiscretion by one of the IC founders to at all distract you from the real issue here – the suffering population in Northern Uganda).

Granted, whether or not IC spends “enough” of its money on relief, counseling, rehabilitation, and reconstruction is a legitimate point for discussion.  But critics of IC should understand that they are not solely a relief organization – they are an advocacy organization as well.  For those who think that IC should be spending more on relief, then there is an easy solution.  Find an organization that does solely relief work and send some money there also.  Better yet, come to Uganda or South Sudan or wherever and get involved, rather than simply heckling someone else who is trying to help.

Here are a few organizations who are trying to bring relief to the oppressed around the world:

World Vision

International Justice Mission

I also want to commend to you Sister Rosemary who runs a relief operation for those affected by the LRA in Northern Uganda.  She is truly an amazing woman, and I had a chance to speak with her earlier this week about her take on the Kony 2012 video.  I don’t feel authorized to quote her, but I will say that those who are looking to do something tangible to help those directly affected by the LRA should look into supporting her and her work.  Here is a fairly recent CNN story on her.  Also, Restore International (Bob Goff’s organization) runs a school in Gulu (the epicenter for the war in the north) and is helping to re-educate and re-vitalize this part of Uganda.

OK, so how is the Kony 2012 video being received here in Uganda?  Unsurprisingly, it is getting lots of press attention.  Also unsurprisingly, the responses are mixed, but trending mostly positive.  There are certainly questions being raised about the timing of this video.  I will admit to scratching my head when I first heard “Kony 2012.”  Kony was driven out of Uganda in 2006, so why are they doing a video about him now?  But after watching the video, and seeing and hearing IC acknowledge that while Kony and the LRA are no longer here in Uganda, they are still active in the Democratic Republic of Congo and the Central African Republic.  That was news to me, and it appears to be news to lots of Ugandans.

A couple days ago, the video was played on an outdoor screen in Gulu.  About halfway through the screening, some teenagers started throwing rocks at the screen and at the organizers, so it was halted.  When asked to explain their actions, the teenagers reported that they were kids during Kony’s reign of terror and the images on the screen were still too haunting for them.  This was a sobering reminder of how much in need of relief this region still remains.  Other public commentators have acknowledged that the capture of Kony would be helpful in bringing closure to this entire episode, so they are pleased that this video might enhance the international pressure to capture Kony.  Still others – largely those who oppose the current government – complain that that video does not acknowledge the destructive role of the Uganda government and its army during the war and in its aftermath.  While that is certainly true, making a video long enough to get one’s point across, and yet short enough that people will watch it, necessarily means that it will not contain all of the details.

So, in conclusion, I am pleased (and most Ugandans are pleased) that there was a video created to bring attention to Kony and the LRA.  If you have not watched the video, I encourage you to do so.  If you feel inclined to support IC, then do.  If you would rather focus your generosity on organizations that exclusively provide relief, then do that.

As Forrest Gump memorably said, that’s about all I have to say about that.

Back to School, Back to Jinja

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On the way home from Jinja on Sunday, Joline, the kids, and I stopped for the once-per-semester Visitation Day at Henry’s school.  The program started at 9:00 a.m., but Henry advised us to come at 11:00.  Good thing he did because the parents’ gathering in the main auditorium went until 2:00 p.m.  As does virtually everything in Uganda, it started late (an hour).  After sitting through three hours of speeches and audience reactions, we were able to sit and talk with Henry.  (During one of the speeches, Joline went for a walk and ran into Henry’s physics teacher and had a good chat with him).

Henry is doing quite well and enjoying his classes.  Our dear friend Amy Batchelor has been following Henry’s plight since it began and had given Henry his first backpack when he started at the Restore Leadership Academy two years ago.  After Henry was admitted to this new school, Amy sent Henry a note – “New School means New Backpack.”  Amy arranged for us to get him one with all the bells and whistles, and then had us stuff it with treats.  He was thrilled. “Please tell her I am loving her,” he said with a characteristically big smile.

I will confess to not hearing God’s voice audibly, and too often I struggle to ascertain his will for me.  Yet I am beginning to discern a call I didn’t expect to get and am not quite sure how to respond.  It seems as if everywhere I turn in Uganda, I encounter American families in the process of trying to navigate the legal guardianship/adoption process.  I have no background or experience in this area, and this is not an area on which I intended to focus during my six months here.  I am thinking, however, that this is one of the surprises God has for me here.

Last November, I came to Uganda with Bob Goff for Henry’s graduation from his “O” levels.  The night we arrived in Kampala, Bob informed me that he was having an early breakfast with a couple who had encountered some difficulty with their legal guardianship proceedings, and he invited me to join them.  Characteristically, I chose sleep over meeting strangers with a legal problem I knew nothing about.  God had other plans.  I woke up earlier than I had hoped and couldn’t fall back asleep so I wandered down to the restaurant.  It was then that I met Sara and Andy Ribbens.  Hearing their story and seeing the desperation in their eyes “had me at hello.”  Over time, it became clear that the key players (on the Ugandan side) in this arena were all friends of mine from prior their visits to Pepperdine (several of them before they were appointed to their current posts).

Since then, the “coincidences” have piled up so much that I cannot help but see God’s hand moving me in the direction of getting further involved.  This is a very complicated and emotional issue.  There are lots of challenges, problems, and seemingly corrupt people involved in the international adoption process.  But there are also lots of children desperate for the care and protection of a loving family, and lots of families desperate to shower these children with love and care.  Time will tell how this all plays out, but for now, I am trying to discern God’s leading and trying to faithfully respond.  There are two cases I am currently trying to assist with, and the opportunities to help keep presenting themselves.

Today, I traveled to Jinja to visit an adult prison with some judges and had my eyes further opened to the opportunities to provide access to justice for those so desperately in need of it.  The judges with whom I work are committed to finding a way to expedite the trials, which will open the door to the next initiative I will be pushing them to adopt.  I hope to have more to report on this in a few weeks.

But while in Jinja, I had the opportunity to spend a few minutes holding one of the babies I am trying to help unite with the American family who has been granted legal guardianship over her.  Unfortunately, the US Embassy has issued a letter notifying the family of its intent to deny the visa.  The frustrating thing is that the Embassy is only doing its job by applying the visa laws as they are written.  The challenge stems from the underdeveloped nature of Uganda’s mental health laws which are making it a challenge to get the right ruling from the court – the child’s mother has been mentally incompetent since she was a child and has never even attempted to care for the child.  There is no father in the picture because mother cannot even communicate enough to explain the circumstances of conception, though rape is suspected.

So, please pray that I can be useful in this area, and please pray for the families who are hanging in limbo right now, especially for the children hoping to have a family.

I am looking forward to Bob’s return visit to Uganda this weekend, and to Hero’s triumphant return home to Uganda after five months of getting rebuilt in the US.  If you don’t know who Hero is or why he needed to get rebuilt, click here.

Kisses from Jinja

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Day Two in Jinja was every bit as exciting as Day One.  It began as the day before had ended – with Katie Davis and her family.  For those of you who don’t know who she is, you should read her book – “Kisses from Katie.”  It is engrossing, inspiring, and available on Amazon here.

Briefly, about four years ago, Katie moved to Uganda from Tennessee after graduating from high school.  Her profound faith and love for the people of Uganda (especially the children) led her to start an organization called Amazima Ministries (which means truth in the local language) and to become the mother of thirteen Ugandan girls.  The book chronicles the journey of this “modern day Mother Teresa,” introducing the reader to each of the girls that God led to Katie.  This brief summary does not do the book (or Katie) justice.

I met Katie last November in Kampala at a lunch put together by our mutual friend, Bob Goff.  I had already read her book and blog, and had a chance to chat with her then.  At that time, she invited our family to come and visit her family in Jinja after we arrived.  The Gregstons had also read her book and blog, and so we decided to come see her family together.  On Friday afternoon, Katie brought her girls over to our hotel to swim with our kids at the pool.  Our kids instantly bonded and played together until they were exhausted.  After swimming, we had dinner at the hotel.  With Katie on Friday was a young boy she was nursing back to health (from severe malnutrition complicated by a medical condition).  He is seven years old and weighs just 10 kilos (about 22 pounds).  He is so thin and fragile, but Katie is utilizing all of the best techniques to rehabilitate him in way that restores his long-term health.

Then this morning, Katie and the girls stopped by our hotel on the way to their Saturday gathering at the property Amazima owns outside of Jinja.  At this gathering, there are over four hundred kids who come for a time of worship, a Bible lesson, play time, lunch, and who then receive several kilograms of food (and soap) to take home for the week.  It really is quite an impressive production.  We were allowed to join Katie’s girls and Amazima staff members in the food serving.

Praise and Worship Time

Feeding the (nearly) 500

I also got to meet a sweet young girl named Jane.  For those of you who have read the book, you will remember that Jane is a girl Katie was foster parenting, but then had to give up after a painful turn of events.  If you want to learn how and why I was able to meet Jane, you will want to read the updated version of “Kisses from Katie.”  (As all good stories, this one continues to unfold long after the original publication date).

Jim and Jane

After lunch and some playing with the kids, we said our goodbyes to Katie and had our picture taken with her.

The Gashes with Katie Davis

From there, the Gashes headed back to the Nile River for Round Two of bungee jumping.  I still wasn’t convinced that I had conquered my fears, Jessica wanted to do a solo jump, and Jennifer wanted to join in the fun.  When we registered to jump yesterday, we had been told that Jennifer was too young.  Later, we learned that the limit was more weight-specific than age-specific.  Accordingly, if Jennifer were to jump with someone, then her age was immaterial.  She wanted to jump with her daddy, and I had more than enough weight to meet the minimum standard.  (Joshua decided that yesterday’s jump was enough excitement for the weekend).

I didn’t think it was possible for me to be more scared than yesterday, but I was.  As we stood on the platform waiting to strap in before the jump, “You don’t have anything to prove – you did that yesterday” kept running through my mind.  Jennifer was growing increasingly nervous, even as Jessica was growing increasingly excited.  Ultimately, Jennifer and I sucked it up and took the leap.

Take Off

Reaching for the Nile

Kissing away the fear

Jessica really enjoyed her solo plunge, but learned a quick lesson in pendulum physics on the way down.  Since the jumper is tied to the bungee cord by the ankles, the goal is go head first.  If one jumps feet first, there is a rather jolting correction at the bottom.  Jessica experienced this correction, but squealed with a mixture of panic and delight the entire time.

Jessica going solo

Right side up, when supposed to be upside down

After the correction

All in all, it was another adventurous and memorable day in Uganda.  (We will be posting the videos of our jumps in the next day or two).  Tomorrow is the one and only Open House Day at Henry’s school for the term, so we are all going to visit him on the way back from Jinja.

Taking the Leap (of Faith)

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Today encapsulated in a microcosm our Ugandan experience thus far.  The day began with the figurative becoming the literal, and ended with an inspiring example of someone who jumped well before we did and dove much deeper.

It took my colleague Jay Milbrandt the better part of a year to convince me to join a Pepperdine Global Justice trip to Uganda.  I have never been good at delving into the unknown.  But since it was only for two weeks, the short- and long-term risks seemed minimal.  Over the next eighteen months of short visits, God opened my heart to the idea of a longer stay.  He did the same for my family, and so after much prayer and deliberation, we made the leap.

Those who know me know how deathly afraid of heights I am.  Like many of my phobias and weaknesses, I can trace my fear back to a single event.  In 1986, I went with my friend Seneca to Austin to watch my older brother John Pole Vault in the Texas Relays.  While we were there, we ventured over to San Antonio and went to the top of the Space Needle.  Up to that point, I had never been afraid of heights.  So I walked over to the edge and looked down.  Instantly, the ground seemed to rush up at me and I turned into pudding.  I slinked back and sat on the floor against the wall shaking and sweating.  Since then, I get weak and anxious even when I see someone else up high.  I can’t even look down from a fourth-story window without growing faint.  This, of course, provides numerous opportunities for jokes at my expense and stunts aimed at freaking me out.  I am an easy mark.

Yesterday, the Gashes and the Gregstons (our Twin Family) drove to Jinja, the source of the Nile River.  The plan was for all of us to go white water rafting, swim at the pool, and hang out with Katie Davis and her family.  (Thursday was a national holiday in Uganda, so we decided to make it a four-day weekend).  After we arrived at our hotel yesterday, we tracked down a brochure for a rafting company to look into making reservations for the next day.  The brochure also indicated that the same company offered bungee jumping over the Nile from a 145-foot platform.  When we called, we learned that the ten of us could go rafting at 10:00 a.m., and those who wanted to do so, could bungee jump before we set adrift on the Nile.

My impulse to directly confront, and try to conquer, my fear of heights came and went like a flash of lightning – big and brilliant when it hits, then immediately gone.  My impulse didn’t even have the delayed thunder.  What did come were the taunts and jeers from my family.  “Dad won’t do it – he’s too scared.”  My comeback reply was devastating.  “No I’m not, I just don’t wanna do it.”  Simply devastating.  Not.

Over the course of the evening and into this morning, I did some thinking and reflecting.  Prior to coming to Africa, Jessica was deathly afraid of needles.  Yet she now draws blood from HIV- and Malaria-positive patients.  I swore (for fear) I would never drive in Uganda, but now I drive all over the city and drove the 80 miles to Jinja.  Prior to leaving our hotel this morning, I decided that it was time to face my fears, but I didn’t tell anyone.  Instead, I let Joshua and Jessica continue to taunt me.  When we arrived and saw how high the platform was, Joshua’s taunting ceased and Jessica backed off some, I think because she saw me get weak again.  When it came to time to pay, Joshua told me that he didn’t want to do it anymore, but I bought three tickets anyway.  (Jennifer is too young, and Joline is still dealing with some vertigo issues).  The Gregstons got four (Jayne was too young).

Joshua was still pretty convinced that I couldn’t go through with it, and I think he assumed that he could back out if I did, so he didn’t protest too much . . . until we climbed the scrillion stairs to the top of the platform.  The plan was for Jay (41) and Jared (12) to go first on a tandem jump, then Jill (41) would go solo, then I would go solo, then Joshua (14) would go solo, then Jessica and Jake (both 16) would tandem.  After Jay and Jared jumped first (with no small amount of consternation on Jared’s part) and didn’t die (though they hit the water pretty hard before bouncing back up), I relaxed a bit.  Joshua reacted differently, though I think he still thought I would wuss out.

Jill’s solo jump was a thing of beauty (though she was quite nervous before takeoff), and it convinced me that I could actually do it.  It convinced Joshua, however, that he couldn’t.  Accordingly, we shifted gears and I decided that Joshua and I would tandem.  As we got strapped to the bungees, I had numerous flashes of panic, but maintained full bladder and bowel control.  But when we hopped and scooted to the edge (ankles bound pretty tightly), the internal muscles threatened to relax in ways that would prove quite fragrant and embarrassing.  Fortunately, I had evacuated my storage tanks (twice) between the time I decided to jump and climbing the tower.

Letting go of the bar above our heads was one of the most psychologically difficult things I have ever done.  We just stood there on the edge of the platform in a tight father-son embrace and listened as they counted us down.  “Three . . . two . . . one.”

Hanging On

 

Fall.

 

Free Falling

 

Touch.

 

Touching the Nile

Rebound.

If we had time before rafting, I would have jumped again.  Alone.  At least I think I would have.

As alluded to earlier, this mirrors our decision to walk out to the edge, let go of any safety supports, cling tightly to each other (and to God), and then fall.  We feel like we have done lots of touching.  And we are ready for another rebound.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we keep jumping back into Uganda in the coming years.  It is exhilarating and teaching us in whole new ways to embrace each other and to embrace the One who protects and sustains us.

Tomorrow, I will write about our wonderful afternoon today with Katie Davis – an impressive young woman whose life (and book) is inspiring tens of thousands around the world.  We are thrilled to have the chance to participate in her ministry tomorrow.  Here is a picture of our kids with hers after an afternoon of swimming together.

Gashes, Gregstons, and Davises