A most precious gift...

Before Christmas (okay, yes, this entry is a bit late... :), Jaclyn and I took a trip to Kajo Keji, Sudan so that we could spend a few days at one of the sister orphanages to Amazing Grace Orphanage in Adjumani. Jaclyn's friend, Matt Besser who works with Samaritan's Purse in Yei, Sudan, was kind enough to come to Adjumani and then take us to Kajo Keji. It was a nice ride up - we even crossed the Albert Nile on a ferry - in order to get to the district that borders Sudan.

Our time at St. Bartholomew's was so blessed. Jaclyn and I got to stay in a tukul right on the compound and it was wonderful to hear the sounds of the children early in the morning as each day began. There are about 84 children there ranging from just a few months old to the early twenties. They were orphaned for many reasons due to the war in S. Sudan, or parents who were unable to care for them due to poverty, sickness, or even mental illness. I was struck by the peace at that place. Yes, we were only there for a few days – but, there was something special about the 15 full-time staff who worked there. They seemed to genuinely love the children, and there seemed to be a spirit of contentment among them even with the many, many hours of work that they put in.

Oh, the children. They were beautiful. Just as it is with the children at Amazing Grace Orphanage, these children have a sense of beauty about them that is almost angelic. It’s not that they are perfect – there is still bickering, crying over small things, dirty faces, and all of that – but, when I think about the fact that these children have lost their parents, that they might sit and wonder why and have no answers, and still they manage to love, play, smile, and laugh…I wonder. I can only thank God for the way He has brought them to a place where they are genuinely loved and cared for as His beloved children. It was therapy to my soul to hold, hug, and play with many of the children each day. It’s amazing how hand games, tag, and singing songs are so fulfilling for these children. We could have done each of those things for hours. J It was wonderful… There was even a flash rainstorm which was license for running around the whole compound and dancing in celebration of such a rare occurrence at this time of year.

We spent a lot of time at the babies home which housed all children under 5 years old on the compound. All we had to do was sit down on the mat they had outside and soon we were both covered with at least 3 babies trying to find places on our laps or in our arms. Yes, it was heart wrenching to see these little ones need so much attention. But, it was such a gift to be there with them, and the strong desire to love and play with them drowned out the reality of their situation in life – at least for the moment. The mama’s taking care of these babies worked tirelessly. I’ve watched friends with one child and how tiring that can be… So, to see only 3 or 4 mamas for about 15 to 20 babies of all different ages under 5 – constantly feeding, bathing, changing dirty diapers, washing clothes, comforting – need I say more! One of the children, named Nejun, is five years old with something that looks like cerebral palsey. His basic needs seemed to be well taken care of, but it also seemed like it wouldn’t hurt to spend some time just holding him. Such simple moments…and, yet, Christ is so profoundly in them.

Our time in Kajo Keji, Sudan also held some other very special times. I was able to find the mother-in-law – Jerisa - to my Ugandan friend, Edith, who lives in Portland and helped me a lot with a Sudanese refugee mother of seven. After asking a few folks at the main hospital where Jerisa’s brother works as a night guard, we were escorted to where she stays (only in AfricaJ could you find someone in this way). She had no idea I was going to show up, and it was great because she recognized me right away (I had spent time with her in Portland a couple of years ago). She told us that she runs out of her tukul every time she hears a plane overhead hoping it’s someone from America coming to see her. Priceless. Fortunately, our friend Annet, who is the nurse at St. Bartholomew’s, was there to help translate as neither Jerisa nor her brother could really speak English. I was able to bring the little suitcase of things that Edith lovingly sent with me for Jerisa which was also a great delight to her. The day before we left, we got to have tea with Jerisa and her extended family, and also had a chance to hear more of her difficult life story. Before leaving them, we had a chance to pray together…another sweet time blessed by Christ.

Just a few hours before we met Jerisa and her family for the first time, we had the opportunity to go with Annet to visit her father in the hospital who had been bitten by a cobra in his tukul a couple of weeks before. We took a brother’s heart fruit (sort of similar in taste to a jackfruit) to share with he and his wife. It lit my heart up to see him smile at these young mzungu visitors who wanted to spend a bit of time with him. Annet told us that he hadn’t eaten much since being at the hospital so it was wonderful to see him eating the brother’s heart fruit with great enthusiasm. We had a chance to pray with him as well as a couple others Annet knew in the hospital.

On our way into the area at the hospital where Annet’s father was we met a little boy who looked to be about seven or eight. His side was bandaged along with part of his arm, and we learned that he was epileptic. Annet asked him what the bandages were from and he said that he had had a seizure (from epilepsy) and fell into a fire. While we were with Annet’s father, we saw the little boy, Ivan, come into the room. It’s hard to admit – especially after you read the rest of this story – that the first thing I thought of was that he’s probably coming in to ask us for money…But, instead, He looked up at both of us, held out his hand, and offered a 200 schilling (less than fifty cents) coin to each of us. Jaclyn and I looked at each other incredulously and then, with lumps in our throats, we tried to get him to take the coins back as it was obvious this boy and his grandmother had very little. Annet translated our wish to him, and he replied that this was his gift to us and he wanted us to have it. That’s it. I wish I had a picture of Ivan’s face as he said this to us…He was a vessel of Christ…trying to teach us more about the undeserving love and incredible grace we receive from Him constantly. I can hardly think of a more humbling moment…

An hour or so later, after we had visited a few others in the same hospital, we came across Ivan’s grandmother again. She took us to Ivan who was in his hospital bed, covered by a mosquito net, and trying to get to sleep. He stretched out his little hand to us and we held it as we prayed for him. I will never forget Ivan, and his great gift to us which is sitting on my shelf as a 200 schilling coin.