Eyes.

Jacob after 2 weeks of treatment

All of them were high
Eyes swollen with redness
Drug induced fevers dripping sweat into eyes 
Eyes that circled the room unable to focus
Eyes that weren’t seeing reality
Wanting to be blind, because it’s better than what they see. 
Except for one. 

His eyes weren’t swollen, itchy, or red - 
But full of pain
squinted together trying to hold back tears.

He had been beaten with a piece of jagged metal, 
for sleeping on a sidewalk,
because there are no parents to give him a bed. 

His fever was from infection, not from drugs, 
His wound was close to two inches deep, 
And he didn’t need to be there.                                                  

He was welcomed home with joy from his brothers, 
He was taken to the hospital every day for two weeks, 
He has fallen into the family and nobody wants to see him go, 

Because that Jacob, his eyes were open, 
He never saw himself lost,
He had been waiting, 
Because he could see something better coming. 

                                                                

An Odd Pair

I would say that he is 8 

But that’s hard to say, because when most of our boys lived on the street they looked like they were 11 or 12, and now after two years of being fed and several inches later, they look more like what they should be, 15 or 16. 

He was high on ‘chenge’ - the local drug that street kids use here. 
Petrol exhaust. 
It curbs the hunger and the fear.

(Chenge) 

His high wore off by the end of the program and he took my hand saying he wanted to walk me to my taxi. 
He wanted me to get there safely. 
We walked. 
Me and my protector. 
A funny pair we made, a tall white woman with a small, extremely dirty black child. 

We stopped to buy fabric for our new backpacks. 
He hesitated when I entered the store. 
His type are usually not allowed in any store, even the local markets. 
I grabbed his hand and pulled him in there with me. 
Two years ago I would have been ashamed to let a street kid see me spend 100,000 shillings ($40) on fabric, while they were busy scraping together 100 shillings a day to eat. 

Today was different. 
For a moment, I wanted him to know that he isn’t a street kid. 
We laughed as we picked out fabric. 
Trying out different ones and parading around the small store. 
He became a “Kitenge” fabric expert and very carefully selected his best fabrics. 

He walked me to my taxi, right to the door, and then turned around back into the crowd and the big city swallowed him. 

My protector should be protected. He should be clean. He should be fed. He should be able to laugh every day and dream big dreams. He should be loved. 
Only in the kingdom will every child experience that. 

We are prayerfully planning to bring in two more kids in December (plus the one we acquired last week - but I’ll save that story for another blog) 
Logistically, our house will be stretching to hold 11 boys. 
I look at my protector and want to bring him home. 
I know that it’s not quite possible right now. 
It would be easier for me to break off this relationship. 
To not invest in a boy that I can’t help until we have a bigger LAND! ( I said it! We’re looking!) 
To not let myself fall in love with a child where I don’t know what’s going to happen. 
To protect him from looking for those from me as well. 
People say that you can’t let your heart break for every kid.
But I think that Jesus’ does. 
I think Jesus sees a purpose greater than getting this kid off the street. 
I think Jesus looks at him and says “I paid the price for him too.” 
I wish we could take them all. I really do. 
But more than that, I want them to know what the love of Jesus is, that he doesn’t call them street kids, but he calls them His own. 
And I think that’s worth a walk to the taxi park. 

-Mal

What I see.

When I pray for our kids  I don't see them sitting in class, learning English, and doing the day to day things they do.  I see them as young men, growing in faith and love, and doing so much more. Maybe sooner than we think.

I see Tim standing up in a room full of people, preaching the gospel with a steadiness and faith that resembles Steven in the book of Acts.

I see Bwanika reaching out to the broken, powerless, left-out women and children- showing them a straight and narrow path full of hope and love.  All the while making a lot of people laugh.

I see Fred raising up his own family one day, leading them in power, wisdom, and truth.

I see Sam being compelled by the love of Christ to hold the hand of the broken, far-off, and sick.

I see Edwin having more friends than anyone on the planet, God using his bright eyes, smile, and personality to usher the Kingdom here on earth.  He will probably change his profession 100 times.

I see Ivan- strong, confident, and humble.  Refined by the Fire of the Holy Spirit, leading sheep to their Shepherd.

I see Richard leading a generation of children to come awake with the love and passion of God.  I see him creating some pretty cool artwork along the way too.

I see Morris teaching, pouring into the kids that struggle the most, and expecting the impossible from a very possible God.

I see other kids being welcomed into our home, and the same crazy growth rising up in them.

Here we are, with tears in our eyes watching this all happen, watching the death of self give birth to completely new creations that will change Uganda and the world.

Stuck.

I can find myself thinking I miss those times where my faith FELT so real,
But my faith is real, I miss a feeling. 

But faith isn't a feeling. 

When you walk by faith you'll find yourself in new territory. 

When you have faith and don't walk by it, you'll find yourself with the same view. 

Never bigger, never changing. 

So should faith feel familiar?

One of the biggest ways that believers have to die to self is letting go of places and times that we felt the most in his presence. They can't be a measuring stick that we hold up to ourselves of whether or not we are doing ok. Before the Holy Spirit came, the disciples walked step by step with Jesus in His presence. After he was gone they longed to walk with him again. But Jesus himself said before he left, that the disciples were going to have sorrow in their heart, but it is for our (theirs and mine and yours) benefit, that He goes away because the Spirit of truth is coming.

Those places in our lives when we neither feel filled up or like we are going anywhere - need to be places of steadfastness. Not longing for what we had, but holding fast for what is to come.

Places of steadfastness can be hard because as believers we like to measure ourselves by how well we walk, not how well we stand. In a place of steadfastness, if your heart isn't right you can feel stuck.

People in the Bible who have literally been stuck.

Daniel in the Lion's den. 

Meshak, Shadrak, and Abendego in the fire. 

Jonah in the belly of the whale. 

Disciples in the boat in the storm. 

Paul when he was in prison.

Jesus on the cross.

Places of steadfastness are places of refinement. They can be places of suffering, hardship, and trial - but your faith will be refined.

Places where we get to know Jesus more and places where we get to know his heart.

And we know that when we start walking again, we will be walking closer than we ever have been walking before.

We know that place of steadfastness was for our benefit.

It may not feel familiar, because it shouldn't.

I've had a lot of boyfriends.

I've had a lot of boyfriends.  Some were a few days, some held my hand and whispered sweet nothings for years.  Some ended violently, some I just had to walk away from and never look back.  A few still try to call me and I'm tempted to answer, but most of the time I just turn my phone on silent.  The times I do mess up and answer I regret it immediately and hang up.

I dated Fear for a long time.  I met him in Uganda.  At first I thought he would keep me safe and show me the correct way to go, but I was wrong.  He was exhausting and we never went anywhere, just stayed in one spot-frozen.  Of course this one is clingy, he calls all the time, but I just blocked his number.

Then there was Self-Love. I don't even want to give you all the details...this one is messy.  He looked at me like I was everything, worshiped me, told me how important I was, and that my comfort and desires were the number one thing in life. I loved him so much, but all the while I could tell something was not right about him. He was suffocating and I knew that there had to be someone better.

I dated America.  He is really nice.  We always found things to do together and he knew me so well.  It didn't end badly, I still really like him, but I found someone else.

I met Uganda.  Uganda was rugged and handsome-took me on some adventurous dates, but the best part about him was that he "needed" me so much.  I felt such a purpose and drive dating him.  Unfortunately, I figured out he really didn't need me that much and he couldn't be my boyfriend anymore.

“Therefore I am now going to allure her;
    I will lead her into the wilderness
    and speak tenderly to her.

There I will give her back her vineyards,
    and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.
There she will respond as in the days of her youth,
    as in the day she came up out of Egypt.

 “In that day,” declares the Lord,
    “you will call me ‘my husband’;
    you will no longer call me ‘my master.

I will remove the names of the Baals from her lips;
    no longer will their names be invoked" -Hosea 2:14-17

Satan loves to distract us with other lovers, he dresses them up to look like someone we want to be with.  But Jesus is right there the whole time and He will draw you out into the wilderness, it might seem scary at first.  You may feel vulnerable and naked.  It's in that place we are able to hear his tender voice saying- "You belong to me, stop running to other masters, I want to give you everything."

I don't have any other masters or boyfriends any more.  

But I am not single, I'm with my Husband.

Shaficki

I stood before our teachers and I knew what I was asking for. 

I was asking for willingness in a place that had already been willing -

for someone to stretch way beyond what is comfortable, even though some had       already made sacrifices -

  for someone not to look at the price when God says ‘follow me’ and to let the Holy Spirit abound in them 

They all stared back at me for a minute, a few bowed their heads to pray

    As one who was late walked in, and I started explaining the situation again

Another interrupted me...

“He’s coming with me.” 

Teachers who have poured into a child that has nobody to care for him. Buying him shoes. Giving him their breakfast. Counseling him in things where nobody else is there to guide him. 

He’d been gone for over a month now. Ran away from a witch doctors home where he was living - SHE was the one who opened her doors to HIM. We heard he was living on the streets and we searched for him. 

But it was him who came back willingly today.

I commended our teachers today. I gave them praise ! Because a little boy that trusts no one found a safe place here. A little boy with nobody in the world to watch over him - came back to them. The streets can be tantalizing for little boys, despite the suffering that comes with it, they are fully able to live the Peter Pan lifestyle. They can do what they want, be as dirty as they want, when they want...

He could have started to take drugs. 

He could have turned to stealing. 

He could have run to a place where he would be ‘free’ from all grown-ups, rules, and cares in the world.

But he ran to God. He ran back to a place where he had been loved. 

As we begin the search for any remaining family, and we try to nail down the facts on his story, and we are praying through next steps to take -- I asked for 2 weeks. 

Our teachers aren’t rich. They are where they are because this is where God has asked them to be. They make sacrifices to be here. Some still struggle to pay their rent, feed their families, and pay their bills all in one month. They are driven by passion for the Lord, for the hope they see overcoming this slum that has been overlooked for so long, and by a desire to see the lost come home. 

She boldly stepped out and said she was taking him. 

A woman of faith. She opened a door.

Another teacher quietly spoke up -  I will buy him books

       

  And another - I will buy him pencils and soap 

Another - I will buy him new sandals 

Another - I will buy him new school shoes (that’s 10% of her monthly salary) 

I’m overcome by the way they give. Those who have little, giving much. Those who have loved much, loving more. 

Transformation

Words from a new sister serving at Doors....

When I reflect on DOORS Ministry, one of the first words that come to my mind is transformation.

Evidence of God's presence and favor upon DOORS is so loudly proclaimed in each transformed life that has come in contact with the ministry. From short-term mission teams and volunteers, to former street boys and families living in the slums. God is transforming lives here.

• Former street boys living lives of theft and hopelessness have been transformed into diligent young men of faith that jump at every opportunity to give whatever they have and serve their brothers and leaders.

• Former American college students living with promising futures and job prospects have been transformed into Ugandan aunties that work tirelessly and yet, also completely fulfilled and joyfully, to feed 15+ mouths daily and tend to 90+ sick and previously overlooked children.

• Former single mothers who desperately sell their bodies to provide food and school fees for their children have been transformed into empowered women who meet twice a week to learn English, have Bible study, and make beads and backpacks as a means for providing for their family.

DOORS Ministry has been a tool of Christ's to transform lives in Uganda. The evidence surrounds me everyday, not only in my own life, but the lives of every other person I come in contact with here.

In fact, just weeks ago another major, more tangible, transformation took place at DOORS: the living room was transformed into a classroom. The boys are now two weeks into their homeschool Accelerated Christian Education curriculum, and it has already become clear to all of us that their education has been transformed.

Before starting homeschool, each of the teenage boys were enrolled in a local primary school...fourteen and fifteen year old boys in classes with eight and nine year olds. They were made fun of by not only their classmates for being the oldest in the classroom, but also their teachers who would at times mock the boys if they didn't know the correct answer when called upon. While each of the boys were of course thankful for the opportunity to go to school, that type of environment is far less than ideal for building and strengthening a teenage boy's confidence, let alone facilitating learning when you are already struggling and behind due to the years spent living on the streets.

"I feel like now I can really learn and nobody is making fun of me. That is the best part."
"I understand things better now, and can read better."
"I like working at my own pace. It helps me when I learn."
"Nobody's laughing at me anymore, I'm not the grandpa of the class."

Those are just a handful of quotes from the boys when asked about being homeschooled. Education transformed.

Not only are the boys learning at faster rates, their confidence levels have skyrocketed. Morris, who formerly would speak as little English as possible, hasn't spoken a word of Luganda to me in the past 3 days and even prayed out loud in English the other night. Richard and Timothy have already blown through one grade level faster than anyone could have anticipated and are looking forward to starting the next, as soon as we can get the copies made! Edwin is figuring out how many bowls are needed to serve dinner for the night by practicing his math outloud: 8 boys + 3 uncles + 4 aunties + 2 children + 3 guests... Ivan is asking to be tested on social science terms while cooking dinner...hours after class dismissal. Bwanika and Fred are constantly asking if they can borrow books to practice their reading, on a Saturday.

These lives have been transformed, yet again. Praise God.