For my zebra

My dearest Ibra,

Life is so unfair.  First, you suffered greatly in the village.  Then you came to the streets and suffered even more.  When I found you, I fell hopelessly in love with you.  You were the cutest kid ever, and your charm was out of this world.  You were always so close, yet so far away.  But eventually I broke through your walls.  I remember the first day you held my hand and I knew then that you would be mine always. 

I had come to Kivulu at night to say goodnight to you boys and share a story.  You all were at a party.  As soon as you heard I was there, you all came running.  As we were walking back to the room where you slept, you grabbed my hand.  I was sure I never wanted to let it go.

 

I watched you grow and change.  I watched you struggle and fall apart.  I watched you pick yourself up and overcome.  Sometimes the struggles were so immense, I wondered if I would ever see the person I knew you could be.  I wondered if you would ever see yourself as I did.  I wondered if you would ever believe in yourself like I did.

And now, I won’t.  All of the dreams I had for you, all of the dreams you had for yourself will never happen, and I am so sorry for that.  Life isn’t fair.  I miss you so incredibly much and nothing will ever fill the empty space in my heart.  We made so many mistakes, and fought so much, but I am so glad we had the most perfect week right before you had to go.  You were the boy I always knew you could be and I had hope that we had finally overcome for the last time.

Now you are resting in peace.  I know your struggles are over.  I know your demons haunt you no more.  I found a picture of you on my phone from the night before.  I immediately started crying.  It captured your spirit and energy perfectly.  I still can’t believe I will never see that sly smile again, or have you burst into my room shouting “mom”.  I keep thinking I hear you voice or see you, but that is just my sadness playing tricks on me.

Your brothers and friends miss you so much too.  No one will ever be able to fill your spot.  It is so huge of a place you left, as you were so full of energy and life.  We are going to remember you for the good times, and the times you made us laugh.  We will remember you for who you were trying to be. 

Life isn’t fair, and we shouldn’t have had to say goodbye so quickly.  We actually didn’t get to say good-bye, but I knew you were already in Heaven then, so I knew it was okay.  I bet you are making Jesus laugh with your crazy dance moves.  I know He is shaking his head and laughing, just like all of us used to do.  What I wouldn’t do to just have one more dance.

I am so proud of you for trying so hard.  I know it wasn’t easy.  I am sorry if I didn’t tell you enough how proud I was of you.  I know I pushed you too far sometimes, but it was only because I knew you could be truly great at anything you wanted to do and I wanted to see that happen.  You made so many changes to your life, and I know if we had more time, you would have went so far in this life.

Ibra, my dearest sweet zebra, you are so loved and so missed.  Always and forever.

Outrage

Sometimes life here is so achingly beautiful and completely unfair.

Death is all around us.  I can’t even put it into words.  There isn’t a month that has gone by that someone I know, or that the boys know, hasn’t lost someone.  If that doesn’t seem right to you, it’s because it isn’t.

It absolutely isn’t right. 

It isn’t fair.

It isn’t okay.

And yet, death is so common here, it seems it is almost to be expected, making it seem that it is ok.  But how?  How is it ok for a woman to give birth to a child and expect that he is probably going to die, so when he does, she isn’t so shocked. 

How is that ok?

It isn’t.

What is worse is most of the deaths should never happened.  I lost my sweet Ibra because of a lack of good medical care.  I know, without a doubt, if we had been in the US, I would be laughing and talking to him right now.  He would be here in person.  Not only my dreams.  I wouldn’t be waking up every morning with an emptiness that is never going to be filled.  I would be seeing him grow up and getting to hug his adorable children.

But no.

One of the boys, Vincent, just lost his boss.  His boss was in an accident when he was out test-driving a car they had fixed.  He passed away last Sunday because of a lack of good medical care.

Why doesn’t that outrage us? 

Why don’t we care that people all over the world are dying because of a lack of proper medical care?  Not even proper.  But basic medical care. 

I don’t know what the answer is, but an answer needs to be found.  Death shouldn’t be so common that people are unable to mourn. I don’t know what is worse to feel this endless sadness over losing a child, or moving on quickly.  But somehow I feel that not being able to mourn diminishes the importance of the person.  I feel an endless sadness because Ibra was a huge part of my life.  I would rather feel this pain, than to pretend that I don’t miss him and life isn’t different without him.

But how could I effectively mourn if I lost so many people all of the time?  I would never get out of bed.  Nothing would get done.  The rest of my kids wouldn’t eat.  The housework wouldn’t get done.  The extra vegetables wouldn’t make it to the market.  The fields wouldn’t get plowed.  Literally, nothing would get done.

Once again, that isn’t right.  Mourning loved ones shouldn’t be a privilege.  Everyone deserves the chance to properly mourn. 

People shouldn’t have to say goodbye to their loved ones just because they were born in a place without adequate medical treatment.

They just shouldn’t.  But they are.  I am. 

And that should outrage you.

What I learned today

Today, everything finally made sense.

I decided to go to church, even though I wasn’t feeling like it.  I woke up and immediately everything seemed to be going wrong.  I wanted to just get back in bed and stay there.  But instead, I got up and went to church.

Totally God’s urging.

I was grumpy the whole walk there.  But God has a way of getting us where we need to be, when we need to be there.  Today was one of those days.   He knew I needed to be at church, and that’s where I ended up.

I don’t think I have ever heard a message that was more fitting, or more directed at me, than I did today.

And it all finally makes sense.

Not in the sense that I will ever understand why my sweet Ibra isn’t here, because I can never understand that, but I finally get that I am not alone.  I was so angry at God for letting it happen.  I was so angry that we live in a country where we can’t get good medical care.  I was so angry that I had to feel this pain.  I thought that I should be spared from it, like there was some suffering exemption that I had earned.  I was just angry.  For me.  For the rest of my boys, because they had already suffered and lost enough in life, they didn’t need to lose a brother too.

I thought no one could understand how I was feeling.  No one had ever felt the pain I was feeling.  And I was so angry at God for letting it happen.  I felt alone.  I felt like He had left us. 

But I was so wrong.

It is so easy to say all of these things that you’re supposed to say when it isn’t you suffering.  I am sure I have said them to someone.  I am sure I have encouraged people not to lose faith when life really sucks and they are wondering how a good God could let it happen.   When people were saying them to me, they seemed so empty.  I just wanted to tell them to shut up.  I wanted to tell them that they couldn’t possibly understand my pain and anger, so they should just stop trying to make me feel better because I wasn’t going to.  Ever.

But today, I learned an important truth.

I learned there is someone that understands exactly how I felt.  And when it finally sank in, it hit me like a brick and I almost completely lost it in the middle of a really big church making a huge spectacle.

Thank God, He is good and so gracious, not to mention forgiving.  Here I was blaming Him, telling Him He left me and didn’t care.  But I learned He IS the only one that understands my pain.  And even more so, I understood that His pain was far greater than any pain I am feeling.  I lost my son far too soon, yes, but He willingly gave His son up for my benefit.  GAVE.  HIM.  UP.  Like willingly choose to endure this pain.

And here I am, like a jerk, telling Him He left me when He understands the pain and loss I am feeling, like no one else.  And not only that, He willing choose it.  So I could be saved.  

I am so grateful today for a gracious God that is always with me and forgives me when I am a jerk.  I am so thankful for a knowing Savior that has experienced every single hardship I could ever face.  He is, and always will be, the only one that can ever begin to understand my pain.  But not only does He understand, He has felt it.  God sent Jesus to be with us, to experience life as we do, just for a time such as these. 

Now, I know when I cry out to God about the immense sadness I feel, I can hear Him say, “I know.  I felt it too.  I am here for you.  Don’t lose hope.” 

And from Him, those words don’t seem so empty.

Host a jewelry party

The holiday season is quickly approaching.  It will be Christmas time before you know it.  I am sure many of you have already started thinking about your Christmas shopping list, and many have probably already started the shopping.

The women that make the jewelry with me

 This holiday season, we have a great way for you to help our boys and the women that make the jewelry, while getting some extra cash to help with your shopping.

Host a holiday jewelry party or sell jewelry for us, before December 31^st , and you can keep 10% of the sales of your party in cash or merchandise.  For example, if you sell $500 worth of jewelry, you get to keep $50 of it or choose jewelry that equals that amount to give as gifts.  If you get a friend to sign up to host a party, you can up that to 15%. 

It is simple.  Just email Amanda at lot2545@gmail.com and let us know you are interested.  We will mail you a box of jewelry and some promotional materials to help you set up your display.  You sell what you can, keep the 10%, and send the rest of the jewelry back to us.  You get the extra cash that you need, our boys are fed, and our women are able to take care of their kids.  Win-win all around.

Here's Eddy

Eddy is another boy that just joined the home.  We weren’t planning to add him either, but when it came to creating a new street kid or letting him stay with us, I chose letting him stay with us.

Eddy lived in the same community as us.  He was always around the house because he was friends with many of the boys.  He is a quiet guy and always respectful.  He was making chapatti(yummy tortilla like things that are worth visiting Uganda in themselves), but when his stand wasn’t as successful as his boss wanted, he fired him.  When he got fired, he couldn’t make rent.  So he became homeless.

Unemployment is so high in Uganda.  I have seen estimates that put it at 85%.  There aren’t a lot of “real” jobs, like at a company or established businesses, so many people create their own in whatever way they can.  It is really difficult to get any of the “real” jobs because it is all about whom you know and what tribe you are from.  The city is full of people walking the streets selling everything you can imagine from thread to rat poison, to clothes or soap.  However, it isn’t so easy to even do that anymore.  There is a government division that is dedicated to making Kampala a better city.  One of their ways to do that is to keep unauthorized vendors from selling.  If these people are caught, all of their things will be confiscated and they can even be arrested or forced to pay a huge fine.  Losing all of their things is probably the worst thing.  Without the capital to start over, they are again in a mess and unable to provide for themselves or their families.  People are so desperate and jobs are so scarce, that it is worth the risk to them, so they keep doing it.

All of that to say, we couldn’t just tell Eddy to go and get another job.  He says he finished his primary education but never went to secondary school.  His English is weak and doesn’t have any real skills.  With a complete lack of jobs available, paired with him having almost no employable skills, it wasn’t going to happen.  So, he is home with us.

He wants to be a DJ and is studying computer repair at vocational training school now.  He has a gentle heart and spirit.  His hair is out of control and completely contradicts his kind personality.  When I tease him about cutting it, he tells me “If you want me to, I will.”  He can help to do anything around the house, and always wants to make sure I am fine.  After school, the first thing he does when he gets home is to find me to say hi.  He doesn’t like to argue or fight.  Had he went to the streets, his spirit would have been broken and his kindness lost.  That is why I said yes, even though we weren’t in a position to take another boy.  I trusted that God would show up and provide for him too.

****If you would like to sponsor Eddy, let me know.  He needs 3 sponsors, each at $50 a month.  That will pay for his vocational school, food, counseling, medical care, and everything else he needs.  He will write you letters and send photos and I guarantee you will fall in love with his out of control hair too!  All donations made to LOT2545 are tax deductible.  He is also in need of a laptop for school.  If you have an old one you would be willing to part with to donate to him, we would both be forever grateful.  It doesn’t need to be perfect, just working.

Meet Paul

Meet Mukisa Paul.  He joined the home officially when we moved at the end of August.  He had been staying with us for a few weeks before we moved, but we were trying to figure out what to do with him.  We aren’t financially in a place to take on another boy, so we were trying to make contact with his family. 

He came to know us because one of our boys found him sleeping outside in a ditch.  He befriended him and when he left the home for a while, the boy started staying with him.  Our boy was helping a lady in the same community, I hope you remember me telling you about him, but if not go back to here.  When he decided to come back to us, the lady kicked the other boy out too. 

We made contact with Paul’s brother, who lived in the same community, but he had no desire or means to take care of his younger brother.  Paul was staying with his grandma, but when she died, he had no one else to take care of him except his brother.  When his brother failed, he had no one and started sleeping outside.

I had a decision to make, and I decided that God would show up for us once again.  I chose to not make a street kid, but instead, spare a really great boy the pain of enduring street life.  So now, Paul is at home with us and his infectious laugh and adorable smile brighten my day.  He is shy, but fits in with these boys and has quickly become a brother.  He is helpful and grateful, and easy to have around.  He has his baggage and I am sure in time I will learn more, but I know it isn’t the same as the other boys.  Even though the money wasn’t there, I know that it was the right choice. 

The right choice isn’t always the easy one, but his laughter makes it easy.

****If you would like to sponsor Paul, let me know.  He needs 3 sponsors, all at $50 a month.  That will pay for his food, school fees, medical care, counseling, and everything else that he needs.  He will write you letters and send photos, and all donations to LOT2545 are tax deductible.  Thanks for wanting to help change his life!