Friday, December 30, 2011

A Dress for Natifa from Amy

The photographer was just learning how to use a camera
so the picture isn't as close up as I would have liked. She was adorable.
Natifa slept in her maama’s arms during the ruckus of gift giving and was entirely uninterested in what was going on around her. Once the maamas figured out what I brought, they began bringing children from all around, “What about this one?” they’d ask in hopeful expectation of a gift. Between the dolls, dresses, and candy every child received some small gift.

Contrary to the other children, whose hair was short and bristly, Natifa’s hairs were soft and curly. The tiny, adorable dress was baby size and Natifa fit the bill. I had hoped to have each child try on the dress they were gifted but the closing swarm of children and the sleeping baby factor limited my willingness to demand such a feat. I hope to return in a week or so to see children all dressed up and can take more pictures then.

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A Dress for Sidat from Heidi

Sidat, gathered into her mother’s arms, watched on as the children came from everywhere. Crammed into this tiny passageway for reasons unknown to me, the distribution party began. Children trampled the sewage floored muck on my open sandaled feet. These tiny corridors are not for the weak stomached or claustrophobic. Before departing, I would have my feet and sandals hand washed to new.

Sidat was not happy about trying on her new dress at first but once over her head she was quite pleased with herself. The faux button holes teased even the grownups. Her maama was all smiles at the goodies being distributed in her area and expressed genuine appreciation (as compared to other maamas who wanted to know what they would be receiving). This dress fit Sidat perfectly.

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Thursday, December 29, 2011

Dollies for Kikubamutwe Slum Girls from Paul

A very generous businessman sponsored 20 dollies and what better way to deliver those dollies than to do so on Christmas day in one of the many Kampala slums. Once one dolly is given, the whole community swarms to see what their gift might be. It’s never difficult to find some way to bless the people here.

The first dolly was given to the daughter of the woman who allowed us to park the boda-boda for safekeeping while we wandered through the narrow paths. This girl was a bit more interested in sucking on her bubble gum. One of the next dolls given matched the dress of the recipient – red checks. I love when those little coincidences happen.

Deeper into the recesses of the slum, I found these four girls who were very excited about their new treasures and whose mothers inquired as to their gifts. Age seems to mean nothing when it comes to holding a baby doll.


Cornered, the last pile of dollies was given to all the remaining girls in the area. The children pressed in, which made gift-giving a challenge. The boys were even thinking they might like one, but their aggressiveness would not have been a good role model for those babies.

Keep your eye on completely naked boy, he’ll appear in another post.


Got a little clostrophobic for me in this tiny space.

UPDATE: The man who took me into the slum told me that he started getting phone calls of appreciation and requests from his family to return with more gifts. Typically you might expect the person helping you to selfishly take you to all his friends and family, but this guy didn’t do that. Instead he avoided them trying not to be self-serving. We will definitely be returning.
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Wednesday, December 28, 2011

A Dolly for Mark from Sarah

I had the idea that I’d spent lots of time with lots of different babies during my Christmas Eve day at the Sanyu Babies Home. Surely this was the best way to spend my day, divided among the so many in need. But God had other plans (I just love when that happens). I’m even getting so I have the expectation that God will show me what to do once I take that first step. Truly walking in faith…so amazing!





Tiny Mark lay in his crib contentedly and the sign above his bed read that he was 1 year old. Mark was the picture of malnourishment but was more likely the victim of malaria gone bad or some other never to be determined illness. A bit listless, Mark could hardly turn his head from side to side. Yep, I scooped up this little boy and found a nearby chair where we sat comfortably for hours. Mark just lay on my chest breathing slowly, tiny eyes wide open, bony arms and legs sprawled across my body while we sang Jesus Loves Me over and over. He scarcely expressed any sense of recognizing the human contact but I knew…

Mark’s last name is Kiriguajjo which I’m told means “it is finished.” The meaning made me think more about this tiny life. A life discarded at birth as if it was already finished. A life mirroring Jesus’ crucifixion statement, something we cannot forget on the eve of his birth. Is this the end for Mark? Is this the finish of his life, in this home where he was unwanted by any loving mother? Sadness crept into my heart at the idea that he would never play with the other children and that his life would likely be very short. As a result I decided that a dolly would be a good lifelong companion for this boy. I don’t typically give girl dolls to boys but they so need one another.

Mark hardly responded at the gift but I tucked her under his arm and we continued to snuggle for another hour or so. When the time came to pull myself away from this breakable thing, I laid Mark in his crib with his Sarah-dolly at the head. Mark began to wail, he cried, he DID know he was being cuddled and he did like it. Tears filled my eyes but I knew I couldn’t stay forever so I tucked that dolly in close to his chest and he quieted just a bit. After a gradual pulling away, Mark was left with his Sarah-dolly and I was left with a little hole in my heart.

Merry Christmas to Mark and to me.
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Sanyu Babies Home

I knew that baby holding was the perfect Christmas present to myself (selfish, I know). It’s okay to take a little break from the usual ministry work, right? I was introduced to the Sanyu Babies Home during a precursory visit so that I knew the rules before coming for this day lest I be disappointed about hours, visitation days, or some other technicality. They warmly welcomed me and any other visitors.

Sanyu means happy. Happy Babies Home. I was surprised to find this home to be a genuine place of happiness. Although one can never know for sure, I got the sense of purity from this place (a freedom from the corruption that plagues so many such places). As I passed through the gate the happily playing 2 and 3 year old children hugged my legs (wiping their slimy noses all over my pants, a likely source of my current cold). After hugging them, boogers and all, I made my way to the newborn baby section of this lovely campus where I was intercepted by Silvia, the administrator.

Thanks to the Schut family triplets, I had piles of newborn to 12 months baby clothes to give to this deserving home (I still have more clothes, but could only carry so much). They were so very grateful and even allowed me to take a few photos – typically forbidden because people use those photos to exploit the home and the children.

The workers here held and played with the children of all ages and they did so with a sense of joy and playfulness rather than obligation and effort. Few babies cried or fussed, many of them played, climbed, and toddled to their little hearts’ content. My day at this home was one of contented happiness to see that these children were being well cared for.
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Monday, December 26, 2011

Bats in My Belfry

A rustling in the attic area rendered me fearful of that moment when whatever it was found the largest hole – the manhole – with the goal of escape (or torment). Scratch, scratch, scratch…a rat? Certainly not a gecho, too big sounding for a mouse, a dog maybe, a lion? The sounds coming from that upper room were frantic-like, not stealth-like so I ruled out the lion. While sleep evaded me when the scratching and clawing went on, I sat bolt upright when I heard whatever it was finally drop through that manhole.

The sound wasn’t actually a scurry as with a mouse or a rat as much as it was a fast, clawed tromp and swoop. Wait, this did not sound like a rat…it sounded more like a big dog failing to gain purchase on the tile floor. Sleep never came as I pressed myself deep into my mattress trying to avoid being a large target for whatever would eat me that night and hoping it would not crawl all over me while I laid there. Gabriel came in the morning and put the screens back on the window vents and covered up the manhole, mostly.

Horrified of sleep the following night, I was justified when the scratching sounds enabled the creature(s) to maneuver through the layers of manhole cover AND to claw its way under my closed bedroom door in an attempt to reach the now covered window vent. I actually saw the thing fly at me this time. A bat. Yep, he flew from under my doorway, ran into my mosquito net, and bounced off the vent screen, and back into my mosquito net.

Scream I did. Great, now he was trapped inside my bedroom. G-A-B-R-I-E-L!!! Luckily, Gabriel has the keys to my house. He had to come rescue me and get me out of this place. No power, no lights = I’m staying under the net. Of course by the time he came and made all kinds of noise the creature was nowhere to be found. No matter, I’m not staying here. Thanks to Andy and Lauren for use of their sofa in the middle of the night where I heard every tiny little creeping noise possible.

The next morning, after fearfully returning home, one nasty looking creature was found hovered over the drain to the sink. No breakfast for me along with no sleep for two nights. Lethal powders and liquids of various kinds were distributed throughout the attic area in an attempt to rid the house of any remaining bat friends. Luckily the house didn’t blow up when we turned the main breaker back on. A half sleep came the next night, still fearing something would get in, but all was relatively quiet.

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A Dolly for Teekira from Jessie

Teekira is neighbor to Andy and Lauren. Andy is so good with children and Teekira was happy to be held by him. This morning, little Teekira was shaking in her socks. I wondered what might be wrong with her tiny little body, but discovered she was just shivering. Cool African weather in just her panties and a t-shirt…poor girly. Of course I wanted to scoop her up and snuggle her to get warm but I had the feeling she’d not welcome that prospect. She didn’t run away screaming when she saw me, but she wasn’t going to accept any gift from me either.


Teekira actually pushed the dolly away when I handed it to her. Yet she didn’t want to leave this treasure behind either. Safely in her mother’s (or her house girl’s) arms, she accepted the dolly and when I was far enough away, she actually began examining the gift with a smile. I’m not sure what big sister thought about this new toy or whether Teekira will remain in charge but for now she had her very own baby to care for.
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Sunday, December 25, 2011

A Dolly for Lisa from the Hogarths

The Kansanga Miracle Worship Center was packed for a night of Thanksgiving at Christmas. Traditional dance, music, and worship preceded a delicious dinner with new friends. Not far from my VIP seat sat a little girl in yellow who was just as cute as a button. She was intrigued by me and I took the opportunity to wave her over. I introduced myself and asked her name using my very best Luganda. In the typical quiet voice, she replied, “Lisa.” A pretty little dolly dressed in yellow, just like Lisa, peeked out of my dusty backpack and leapt into her arms.


Lisa and her baby; Lisa's momma and her baby
A very scary traditional drama started and Lisa screamed and ran horrified to her mother clutching her dolly tightly. Even her mother couldn’t assuage her fears. Once the scary part was over, though, Lisa ran back to my lap and continued watching. Whether it was her vantage point or her interest in me or the dolly, we’ll never know. She loved the kissing game with the dolly and smiled away. Everyone around us inquired about where I bought the cute dolly and I proudly told them that MY momma made them for me J

Time to get into the food line and Lisa was left behind (sniffle). She got her own little meal and as I headed into the church for the main event, we waved an affectionate good-bye. I actually miss this adorable little girl and wish I could have spent more time with her.
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A Dolly for Jennifer from Kathy

Five-year-old Jennifer and her little brother were squished in their father’s lap on the taxi taking us from Banda to Kampala. As usual, the children openly stared at the mzungu…such a sight. I reached out for their hands and both Jennifer and her little brother were happy to touch me and to say hello. One of the brightest smiles I’ve seen – and I’ve seen so very many – flashed across Jennifer’s face.

I worked a dolly out of my backpack to peek over the back of the seat while Jennifer looked on. She finally reached for the toy and continued to show her huge grin. She said to me, in a very confident voice and perfect English, “Thank you very much.”

Jennifer continued to inspect her dolly every once in a while peeking back at me. When she caught me looking, she’d start to giggle. Then I’d start to giggle. Then the lady next to me would start to giggle. Then the father would start to giggle. Once we all settled down, Jennifer would start us all up again. Such a joyful young giggly girl!
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Saturday, December 24, 2011

A Dress for Hazel from Dr. Debbie

The children began pestering me immediately when I arrived at the church where we meet with the Konoweka ladies. Some of them still say, “Give me money.” I’ve simply started telling those children to ogenda eka (go home). Of course, I don’t know if I’m giving the instruction correctly because they never go. They follow me into the church, pick through my bags, and otherwise hang all over me. Okay, having all these children around is not the torture it may sound.


Finally one of the women arrived and shooed all the children outside…save the one I invited to stay. Hazel was a new face for me and offered the perfect opportunity to try out a new dress…particularly as a model for the Konoweka ladies who would eventually make these same dresses.

I slipped that dress over her head and all the children came pouring back into the church to admire her. Most of these children are boys so they weren’t too concerned about having not received a dress for themselves. Instead, “Sing!” they demanded, reminiscent of our previous visits together. As we sang the many children’s songs practiced each time I arrive, Hazel became more animated. She was really quite a little showgirl in her pretty new dress.
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Konoweka Tailoring Graduation

Nine women graduated from their tailoring course and anxiously waited to show me their progress in learning to sew. In the beginning they practiced in cement bags but Annie – the woman caring for this group on behalf of Surprised by Hope – secured some fabric for them. I delivered their graduation gift bags provided by so many of you and promised another sewing machine once they learned how to care for the one they have.


Beautiful and unique fabric patterns fill the Kampala markets. Each
woman received two yards of cloth to make her first few dresses. I'm
thinking the fabric on the top right would be great for curtains in the house.
I’ve seen a number of sewing machine gifts turn into junk piles because the first one breaks down and no one knows how to fix it so they use the second one until that one breaks then they have nothing. I’m encouraging the women to learn how to care for their machine before adding more temptations not to bother. The next machine will include the zigzag function, silly me…thinking all machines have zigzag. But noooo, zigzag machines cost twice as much money.

We spent a bit of time talking about this dress pattern they can begin using, the one the girls are now wearing all around East Africa. Once they saw the sample and comprehended the simple genius of the pattern, they let out a collective gasp of amazement. After the holidays, we’ll get together and practice so that I can guide their learning about this pattern.

I can’t wait to see what other patterns my momma cooks up to help give these women products unique to the markets here in Uganda.
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Juice Lady

Look carefully. The background is a building in progress,
see the scaffolding timbers? I'm always amazed the
buildings turn out straight. A few apartments in the mid-
ground. Between the roof and staircase, on the ground,
you can see the ladies cooking their hearts out to serve
a meal to the folks who ordered that morning. To the right
out of the picture is a guy making creative, artsy
Christmas trees.
Kampala is filled with vendors of all sorts and if you’re smart you’ll make friends with a local to find the best food and drinks in town (not to mention the best prices). After doing just that, I discovered the Juice Lady. Really she provides plates filled with fresh fruit for the merchants in the area along with a variety of drinks. She has a refrigerator that works only when power is on and a little square of space in the way back of a building that fronts home hardware such as shower heads, paint, and tile.

Somehow the Juice Lady manages to make her passion fruit juice exactly perfect every time. At one point I asked if the juice was really fresh and she almost seemed offended. So now, every time I go into Kampala – a taxing event given the heat of the day, the heat of the taxi, and the heat of the hike uphill into town – I get a reused, hand-scrubbed Fanta bottle filled the most amazing passion fruit juice in the whole world. She even gives me a straw that drops down into the neck of the bottle and has to be fished out with my finger.

As I enjoy this sweet nectar, I stand by the back window for the breeze and look down into another hidden nook where the women work hard to prepare food for lunches distributed to merchants who place their orders early.
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Friday, December 23, 2011

Shared Hope for Orphans

The Teachers’ Association to Cater to Children is a community based organization interested in providing for orphaned children as well as providing an education for the children of families who lack funds for fee-based schools. Essentially this is the group of people who cannot pay and they’ve bound together to provide that education in a school where the parents and unemployed adults work together. Really, the model is a wonderful one. They’re very dedicated to their cause. Last summer I had the opportunity to work through the Entrepreneurship curriculum with this group of 20 members and as a result they netted some very tangible results including redefining their vision and mission more succinctly and a list of goals and objectives to push them toward growth.


First they changed their name from The Teachers Association to Cater to Children (they are not a group of teachers) to Shared Hope for Orphans, which reflects their community and their purpose more succinctly. I’ve written much in previous blog posts about this very passionate organization and my passion for them continues to grow as I watch them actually taking the steps we outlined together in our early sessions. They’ve designed their planned home, gotten quotes for the cost to build, and we just spent another day together learning to write a proposal requesting funds to support the project.

What I love love love about this group is that their leader is respected by the whole group and takes a very serious approach to achieving the goals of the organization. Often people attend courses, workshops, or seminars and listen to the lecturer but fail to actually apply what they’ve learned. This phenomenon seems just as true in East Africa as in America. But Shared Hope for Orphans is motivated to help their community and they do it by following through on the lessons learned in various teachings we’ve done together.
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The Ant Conundrum

On more than one occasion I’ve discovered my kitchen sponge infested with ants. Here’s the conundrum…can I still use the sponge?

1.      Spray said sponge with ½ can of Doom (or fill the sink with water and drown them).
2.      Fill the sponge with dish soap and scrub (which makes the remaining ant bodies get all broken up and mushed in).
3.      Rinse and repeat until seemingly “clean.”
4.      Reuse until the next time the sponge is filled with ants.

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Thursday, December 22, 2011

A Dolly for Shakira from Pat


At The Sanctuary Babies Home I wanted to leave behind some small gift so I gave the children flashcards – numbers, letters, words – to help with their home school studies. We examined the English words and their Luganda matches together. Watching how each child managed their small disarray of cards was interesting. Some kept then neat and organized and others spread then out all over the compound. But I only had five decks of cards so I added to that just one dolly. I thought the children would fight over the doll and asked whether this would be a problem. “No, they’ll share” was the reply.

Instead what I found was that all the children, except one, were more interested in the cards. Shakira, in her tattered shirt that hung half off her shoulder, made her way past the card-inspecting children and waited expectantly for the dolly to be delivered into her hands. Shakira’s big half-toothed grin was so infectious. She needed little help knowing what to do with her new doll and the others left her to her work.

God knew just the right amount of cards and dolls. Yea! I love that this is one situation where I’ll be able to see Shakira again and check on that doll.
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The Sanctuary Babies Home

Carpenter John – ever interested in sneaking children into my world – introduced me to the leader of The Sanctuary Babies Home as the children all ran out to greet me. In this context, “Babies Home” means young children rather than actual babies or toddlers. These children are somehow orphaned and are now under the care of a small handful of loving adults.

The children here are home schooled which earns no credential here in Uganda but this type of education is what can be afforded in such circumstances. A display of their smarts was in order as the children lined up and each said and spelled their names, except Jonathon who was a bit young and had his own plans for that time of performance. They all seemed to love their caretakers and weren’t afraid to have fun with them. Again, what will God do with us know that we’ve been introduced? We’ll find out.


Faith

Jonathon

Shakira

Hannah

Elijah

Huntington





















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Wednesday, December 21, 2011

A Dolly for Anisha from Cary

Anisha was among a gaggle of children hollering after me as I parked the car near Carpenter John’s home. Following our visit, she was still waiting for my return. This time, though, she flashed one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve seen…which I neglected to capture on film after about 30 failed attempts. She watched patiently from the background while the rest of the children bombarded me as I distributed candy whose wrappers now litter the ground.



From the safety of the car I motioned to Anisha and called jangu (come). She hesitantly approached at which time I played peek-a-boo with the doll out the car window. She watched with such intense interest. Finally Cary’s foster dolly jumped out the car window and into her new momma’s arms. Again, the adorable picture moments were perfect and I missed every one by split seconds. Instead our Kodak moment is something akin to a horrified grimace.

The smile returned as Alisha examined this gift with approval while she protected the toy from the marauding boys with the fierceness of a real mother.
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A Dress for Faith from Christian

One of the workmen at Shelemiah AIDS Orphans’ Care Ministries toted a baby in preparation for her evening bath. He thought he was going to sneak away quietly, but I spotted that child before he had the chance. Nope, she didn’t scream…she clung. Head resting comfortably on my shoulder during my tour of the compound, little Faith was content…as was I. I saw her father or caretaker – I know not which – was waiting and knew that I must relinquish this little doll but she felt a part of me…how could I give her up?


This contentedness didn’t seem to me to be for want of sleep or complacency…there was something else…something I can’t quite pinpoint. I sat down in the grass with baby Faith just to allow that closeness to sink into us. I closed my eyes and breathed her in. Faith…Christian Faith…this little girl and this little experience is just for you my lovely friend.

Faith was swallowed up by her tiny dress which fit more perfectly than expected. Once adorned, Faith allowed me to scoop her up again and kiss her tiny neck (some things just can’t be helped) without squealing. I cradled her, rocked her, and prolonged the moment that necessitated returning her to her father. Christian Faith…Christian Faith.
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Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Shelemiah Orphans' Care Ministries

Carpenter John observed my mushy responses to children in Uganda and sneakily added two orphanage visits to our agenda. Our first visit was to Shelemiah AIDS Orphans’ Care Ministries where Dennis pours out his compassion on a group of primary school age children orphaned because of AIDS.


I scarcely stepped from the car before being bombarded by hugs from children of all sizes…and well…you know how the rest of this story goes. Yep…I melted like a snowman. The children ushered me into their garden area and Dennis and I talked a bit about ways we might be able to work together. A brief tour of the compound revealed a very nice place for short term teams to stay while they minister to these beautiful children.

A few mother-widows waited for our arrival at the nearby church. Unknowingly, we were to have arrived about two hours earlier so many of these women had gone home already. After excusing the men save Dennis, he translated a message God put on my heart especially for these widows. I believe we all received a little grace and love from God during those few private moments of sharing.

Needless to say, I’m looking forward to getting to know this ministry and the women and children within. Thank you, Jesus, for the eyes to see and the heart to love the people here.
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Kakira Prison

Kakira Sugar is one of the most popular brand names in Uganda and I recently learned that the name is simply based on location. Apparently Kakira is the name of a town here. Kakira Prison is no different…named after the town.

Carpenter John was invited to be involved with Kakira Prison the same way he is with Bugembe Prison but the dates and times conflicted. As a result, Pastor Emmanuel serves as chaplain there and the two men remain partners in their efforts to minister to the people in prison.

A short introductory visit there allowed me to deliver a few Bibles as well as to talk for a few brief moments about having hope. We stood on the “porch” – a ledge wide enough to hold a small handful of men – during this introduction. Carpenter John and Emmanuel have hope that we’ll be able to start skills development training in this prison like the program in Bugembe Prison.

Please praise God with me for what he will do in Kakira Prison to help the prisoners learn skills that transform them into productive members of their community, their country, and the body of Christ.
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Monday, December 19, 2011

Letter from Prison

Carpenter John has been coming to Bugembe Prison for 11 years. He encourages a man inside the prison to function as the spiritual leader with the informal title of pastor. Well, pastor Frederick is “graduating” soon and I was so encouraged to see that he is raising up Geofrey to stand in his place. Geofery was one of a few prisoners who was here last time I visited and in anticipation of my arrival he slipped me a note.

I am K****** Geofrey a prisoner. I appreciate what you have done for us by the time I have been in prison. Thank you very much. I came in prison when I am not saved but I found Jesus in prison by the time you were preaching and I took Jesus as my Savior. I was sentenced of 18 months and I am finishing in May but I do not have where to start from. I know I will succeed because of you Ms. Leslie, I know how to shave hair and to sew clothes.

Thank you
Jesus bless you

Now seriously…you never know what God is doing in people because of your simple acts of love.
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A Dolly for Baby Prison Boy from Joyce

Mommas keep their babies with them while they serve their prison term and this baby was full of personality. I held out my hand for him to come and he squirmed in his mother’s lap until she finally released him. Often such young children shy away (or scream) when they just look at me let alone when invited to come to me. Not walking yet, he made his way over in no time nearly pulling my skirt right off as he grabbed at the fabric to steady himself.

I gave the small one an apple and rather than trying to eat that apple he proceeded to pound the bejeebers out of that thing all over the floor. It was like he knew he was making applesauce and that the treat was inside a piñata. At one point he put that apple back inside the bag of about 10 other apples. I went digging for that mashed disaster of an apple and couldn’t find it again. Really…did God restore the apple? Huh.

 









The women wanted to show us the mats they were weaving in their part of the prison so we followed behind. Kneeling to wait for the keeper, I snuck the first ever boy doll into the hands of the baby prison boy. Oh he was so very happy and maama was surprised and thankful too. Baby prison boy started talking to his dolly and making all kinds of lip smacking sounds. Occupied for a while, loved for a lifetime.

 













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Sunday, December 18, 2011

The Muslim Drummer

Carpenter John (standing left)
Muslim drummer (seated center)
Pastor's Apprentice Geofrey (standing right)
I mentioned when handing out Bibles in Bugembe Prison last time that several Muslim men accepted the gift alongside the Christian and pre-Christian people. Then we learned that this Muslim man was also a cobra and willing to teach the prisoners the trade so that when they’re released they can have some livelihood.

During this visit this man was drumming in worship to Jesus and not letting his Bible out of sight. A curiosity quickly cleared up by Carpenter John who indicated that the Muslim drummer was now a Christian drummer and that his decision was influenced by the Bibles, the skills development training, and the Christian men in his skills learning group. Yea God!








I wonder what would have happened if the generous folks in SC wouldn’t have sent all those Bibles or what would have happened if Carpenter John hadn’t introduced me to the folks in this prison or if Heidi hadn’t introduced me to Robert. I know God could have found another way but…I don’t want him to. I want him to use us all in this wild chain of events to change lives. We are definitely bringing the surprise of the Living Hope!
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Prison Food

After our church service in prison, at which I was the impromptu preacher – I love teaching about the surprise of the living hope (1 Peter 1:3-4) – the men lined up to receive their twice daily meal. You can’t quite see into this bowl but the content was some kind of yellowish liquid that could hardly be considered mush. That’s it. It’s a good thing the church put doors on their latrines.


 


 Thanks to a very generous donor, the group got apples to go with their mush today. Carpenter John dreams of providing them with a proper Christmas meal – rice, beans, meat – each year, but the donation he’d received last year hasn’t come in. Get this…for less than $100 he can feed a prison of 50 people with the simplest of meals. Apples have been provided again for Christmas so if nothing else, they’ll get this small treat once more. [Update: Before the post even went out a donor stepped up to provide their Christmas meal. Praise God for your compassion!]

You should know that these prisoners are some of the sweetest, humblest people I’ve met. I continue to be surprised by that fact…I guess because that kind of temperament is rather contrary to our American idea of movi-fied crimes and the people who commit them. When you read some of the stories about these folks, I know you’ll be surprised too.
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