God is Bigger than Kony

The following blog is my contribution towards making Joseph Kony infamous so he can not continue to hide in plain sight. For more information on the campaign to stop Joseph Kony go to www.kony2012.com

I first heard of Joseph Kony in 2010. I was preparing to go to Africa on an extended mission trip with some friends and a couple who founded the Pilgrim Center for Forgiveness and Reconciliation. One of the places we were going to visit was located in the Northern part of Uganda. We were going to conduct a Forgiveness and Reconciliation retreat to help young girls, who had escaped from Kony’s organization (known as the Lord’s Resistance Army or LRA.)

Prior to our trip, I had learned how Kony and his army were living in the wild bush area near Southern Sudan/Northern Uganda. He would lead his army into villages at night, burning them, terrorizing the villagers, kidnapping the children and forcing them to either kill or watch their own parents be killed. Kony’s objective was not so much about politics, but about power and he used an army of child soldiers to meet his needs.

Some harrowing and almost unbelievable stories have come from the limited number of children who have managed to escape the LRA with their lives. Almost immediately, it became apparent that these children would need special love, care and miraculous healing to ever put their lives back together; but where would that help come from?

The most obvious answer would seem to be from their extended family or villagers who survived, but not so. When the children who had been abducted, escaped and tried to return home, they were not trusted. No one knew how much brainwashing the children had undergone. Fear of the children killing (along with the memories of the horrible things the children were forced to do when they were abducted) kept villagers from allowing the kids to return to community. I heard a story of a child who escaped and returned to her village to live with her grandmother. The grandmother welcomed the child to live with her, but then slowly began to poison her, thinking the child would be better off dead than living with the “shame” of the abduction!

Mercifully, God has raised up a few individuals and groups who have founded “boarding school” type facilities where these former child soldiers can go to live, be healed, and be safe. It was to one such facility that we went in November 2010.

The idea was to host a three-day retreat for 21 girls to teach them about Jesus, the cross, forgiveness and inner healing. The hope is through Bible study, healing prayer and the incredible work of the Holy Spirit, the girls would begin to forgive their captors and allow inner healing to take place. This seemed like a tall order for God, but I was willing to do whatever he called me to do to help the girls however I could. The day we arrived, 42 girls filled the pavilion where the retreat was to take place – no one could send any of them away.

Over the next three days we talked together, worshiped together, studied the Bible together, prayed together and began to hear their stories. What the girls described was unimaginable. Period. Fortunately, one of the women I was traveling with had been part of a previous retreat with girls such as these. She had told me how hard it was to hear the stories, how she had such a hard time listening to them and asked God why he would ask her to hear such things since he knew she would have a hard time letting the stories go. God’s response was, “I want you to see how deep my healing can go.” So armed with that word, I kept giving the girls’ stories to God. It was still one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do.

Towards the end of the second day, each of us broke out into a small group with 8 girls for healing prayer. This was the time when I would encourage each of the girls to lay her anger at the foot of the cross and encourage her to ask God to help her forgive those who had wronged her. At first no one said a word. Then one girl began to talk and the tears began to flow. She talked so quietly I had to ask someone else from the group to help me understand what she was saying.

“She is asking God to take away the pain from where she was shot.” I took a breath and asked her to point to where that was. The girl pointed to her head.

“She was shot in the head?”

“Yes, and the bullet is still there.”

When you have been praying for people to be healed for some time you kind of have a pattern of prayer that comes to mind. Not in this case. It was this prayer time for this young lady that I truly realized healing had nothing to do with the prayer out of my lips, but everything to do with the goodness of God. All I could do was say, “God, take away your daughter’s pain.” Then I invited everyone in the group to pray for their sister as well.

Once the ice was broken, so were the floodgates. One by one I listened to the prayers of these girls. One girl asked me, “Can you help me forgive the men who killed my parents with a machete in front of me?” All I could do was think, “No, I absolutely can not. God, this one is totally on you.”  By the time our session had ended, I understood all of this was on God. None of it had anything to do with me (thank goodness!) And in my heart I wondered, “Would God really do what we told the girls he would?”

The next morning we were greeted by many smiling, singing, giggling young girls. Many of them could hardly wait to share what God had done for them. One girl from my group came up to me and said, “I slept! For the first time since I have escaped the nightmares did not come when I went to sleep!” Praise God! He was doing it. For real. The stories went on and on. I am almost embarrassed to say I was amazed. Girls who had lived through the most unspeakable acts and been rejected by family and community were worshipping and sharing their testimonies of healing with incredible joy! Then I knew for sure what I had wanted to believe, but needed to see, God is bigger than any atrocity from any war. God is bigger than Joseph Kony!

Maria

During the fall of 2010 I spent roughly eight weeks in missions traveling around East Africa. The second to last stop during this particular trip was in Tanzania. Here, my three traveling companions and I connected with a mission outreach team from our home congregation.

This mission team was made up of several lay leaders who were involved in medical missions, hosting an Alpha conference, and a group of leaders dedicated to a start-up non-profit organization called Food for His Children. www.foodforhischildren.org

Members of the team chose one of several different ways to spend each day of their trip and then would gather with the entire team to debrief their day each evening. It was at one of those evening debriefing sessions that I first heard about Maria. I had spent the day at the Alpha conference while some other members of the team had spent the day in the local community. Following a school visit and some home visits the pastor who was accompanying the community group took the team to a nearby village to pray for a young girl named Maria.

Maria was maybe 7 or 8 years old at the time and had been living in a home with her mother and slightly older brother. Unfortunately, Maria had been born deaf and blind and was consequently mute as well. Maria’s mother was a single parent who had to work during the day to provide for her family and did not have enough income to hire outside care for Maria. This meant Maria spent hours alone each day with no one to care for her.

When the team arrived to pray for Maria they found her initially (and understandably) hostile to their approach. My friend said she felt the Lord leading her to pray for some sort of deliverance for Maria. She held the girl as she prayed over her and soon Maria was hanging onto my friend as if she was never going to let her go. My friend said they spent a long time embracing as she spoke words of love and comfort over Maria.

Another gentleman who was also praying said he had something strange happen that he had never seen before. He said that while they were praying for Maria, faces: bad faces, ugly faces, angry faces, had begun appearing to him and then disappearing. As a team, we believed that God had indeed delivered Maria in some way that day! Praise God!

The next day of the trip, I accompanied the medical team out into the community. While I have no medical background or experience, I thought I could pray for the people we visited and those who did. Sure enough, towards the end of the day, the pastor we were traveling with took us to Maria’s home. He said he knew there was nothing medical that could be done for her, but that we should go and pray anyway.

When we arrived at Maria’s home we met her brother. He led Maria to us and I, too, experienced the hostility from a young girl who was trapped inside herself, not knowing what was happening in the world around her. I thought, “Oh, God. Where do I even begin…?” I did my best to place my hands on Maria in a gentle reassuring manner and began praying for healing. I thought Maria was beginning to relax and trust my touch when al of a sudden she began howling and pulling on her ears. I was shocked and not sure what to do when Maria then began scraping in the mud and trying to put it into her eyes.

By this time I felt like I had completely failed and somehow violated her space causing this extreme reaction when I saw one of our African team members smiling and praising God. I looked at her curiously and asked what was going on. She said, “She’s completely deaf and so cannot hear what you are praying, yet when you prayed for healing she began pulling on her ears. She must have heard some sort of sound. She must have also seen some sort of light and it frightened her. Look how she is trying to put mud into her eyes to darken them. I believe God is beginning to heal her!”

I was so filled with compassion for this little girl. God was beginning to heal her and she was scared. I didn’t know how to reassure her about what was happening, but I knew it was not God’s will to have her terrified of his touch. So, I did the only thing I could think of and grabbed hold of her, hugging her tight and praying words of God’s comfort and love over her. Almost instantly God was able to calm her from the inside. Maria’s body melted into mine as she hung on tightly. I’m not sure what God did, but it was exactly what she needed!

After a bit, Maria’s brother led Maria back to the comfort of the “room” (aka tin shed) where Maria spent much of her day. This tin shed was dark and empty with a mud floor. The pastor showed us the tree trunk in the corner of the shed that Maria was tied to during the day for her “safety.”

Now, most of us would call this child abuse – and I’m not trying to champion this behavior – but in the context of rural Africa, where children who are “different” have a very dismal future if any, this young girl seemed outwardly healthy, was wearing properly fitted clothing and was not starving. It was obvious maria’s mother loved her, she just didn’t have the ability to care for her.

At the evening debriefing time I learned several people from our church had met Maria and had been trying to arrange care for her through the local pastor. Unfortunately, the attempts had been mostly unsuccessful. There was however, new hope for Maria on the horizon.

A staff member of our church had a daughter who had committed to opening a school for disabled children in a nearby village to Maria. The building had been bought and dedicated and plans for opening were underway, but the distance and the cost for Maria’s mother to send Maria to the school (if indeed she could be convinced to do so) would be great.

Fast forward to a year and a half, much labor, and many prayers later. I have just received word that a generous benefactor has provided what Maria’s family needed for Maria to attend the school! The African woman who was praying beside me that day in Tanzania was an instrumental figure in making sure Maria had not been forgotten!

I received pictures of Maria last week at school. One glance was all it took for me to see how deeply God cares for each and every one of his children! While the world may have discounted the value of Maria’s life, she is invaluable in the eyes of God!

Dreaming with God

Ever since I began traveling to Africa, four years ago, I have been on a quest to figure out how to facilitate opportunities for children to express themselves through art. I’m not an artist, but as an educator I know creative expression allows kids to explore and express thoughts and feelings that language doesn’t always allow. I often work in remote areas with no buildings let alone tables and often with an ever-expanding multiple aged group of kids. Having tried the “beads/lanyard, markers/coffee filters, tissue/chenille stems” types of traditional crafts, and failed miserably – often humorously – I kept asking God for an idea that would actually work.

One day, while walking through Michael’s, it came to me. I grabbed and inexpensive set of watercolors in tubes, some cheap watercolor brushes and some very small individual empty plastic paint pots with lids. I bought a stack of the cheapest paper plates I could find and grabbed a jumbo pack of cotton swabs “just in case.” All of this packed into my suitcase with ease, but what remained to be seen was if “my” idea would actually work.

The day before I was scheduled to teach Sunday School, I spread all of the plates out on every open surface in my room. I placed one dot of each color of paint around the rim of each plate and let the plates dry completely before stacking them up and making more. My thought was the kids could dip a brush (or cotton swab) in water and then reconstitute the paint on the edges of the plate and paint a picture in th open center of the plate. The beauty of this method was that I could bring hundreds of supplies that could be used with no special accommodations. I could even bring the water in little plastic containers if needed.

Okay, so now we know this was not actually my idea, but God’s of course – inexpensive, easy, expandable and very do-able.

Sunday morning, I taught the kids a lesson about God choosing a young boy, David, to be a king (1 Samuel 16:1-13) and a young girl, Esther, to be a queen ( Esther 2). Then we read how God had a special purpose for each one of them, too (Jeremiah 1:5, 29:11). We prayed over the kids and invited them to begin dreaming with God about the plans he had for each of them. Then we introduced the paints.

While I assumed I would have to demonstrate how watercolor painting worked, I had no idea that none of the kids had ever seen a paintbrush and didn’t even have the words for brush and paint! After demonstrating the art technique we handed out plates, brushes and cups of water to each of the kids. Then I invited the kids to paint what God had placed in their hearts.

There were about 70 kids present at the time we started. Fortunately we were meeting inside a church building with a solid floor (quite rare in rural Tanzania) so I encouraged the kids to “spread out” so they could paint freely. This idea in itself took much explaining to the leadership, but once they understood, they encouraged the kids to move. The next half hour was one of the most anointed times I have ever experienced with children in Africa.

Some of the kids had great fun just exploring paint, brushes and color. A few of the little kids were to afraid to touch anything and just kept looking at me and crying. Many of the kids began to paint what was in their heart. In fact, some of the kids painted with such skill it took my breath away!

A curious thing began to happen while the kids were painting. The senior Pastor (and head of the district, I later found out) began talking with my friend and interpreter in very animated tones. He was visibly upset and my friend began praying with him. Following that encounter, my friend came over to me and said, “You have no idea what you have done just now.” I’ll be honest, my immediate response to that statement was one of, “Oh-no, what?”

My friend smiled and proceeded to tell me that the senior Pastor had been so moved by what he saw happening with the children that he broke down and repented on behalf of the entire church. He stated they had never considered the children worth investing much in but now he saw things differently. My friend said that because this pastor was a district leader, what happened in this church, this morning would impact the way children would be seen throughout the region.

Wow, God, all I wanted to do was paint…

Following the painting, we gathered the children back together and invited them to share their paintings and their dreams. Several of the boys wanted to helicopter pilots, one girl showed us a picture of a house. She said she wanted to build her own house and be the best housewife ever! One of the little boys who spent half the morning crying came up front to show me his picture at least 4 times! We prayed declarations over what the children said and ended our time together with much singing. I was absolutely stunned.

All I wanted to do was paint, but as usual, God had a better idea!

How Do You Start Your Day?

The other morning I was having breakfast with my grandaughter when she said, “This morning I made up a song for Jesus. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes!” I replied.

“Well, it’s not the whole song. I only have he first part. I think it has eight parts. I’m going to make up something new everyday until it’s done.”

“Okay, sing the first part.”

“Jesus is in your heart, and he will never leave you…that’s all I have.”

“That’s beautiful.”

The next day at breakfast my grandaughter continued, “I have the next part of my Jesus song. Do you want to hear it?”

“You bet I do!”

“Jesus is in your heart, and he will never leave you because he loves you so much…how’s that?”

“That’s wonderful.”

“And Grandma,”

“Yes,”

“I sang it to Jesus and I think he’s dancing.”

“I’m sure he is!”

 

 

Stella

While I was in Tanzania this past November, I had the opportunity to spend the day at a church in a rural area populated by many people of the Maasai tribes. I had a great time teaching the Sunday School kids in the morning (more about that in another post) and was now enjoying the morning service with the full congregation.

As is often customary in village churches, our team was seated on the dias at the front of the church alongside the pastor, deacon, and a few other leaders. During the service I noticed a little girl, who was maybe 2 1/2 to 3 years of age, staring at us intently. This behavior is quite normal in African villages as many children have never seen a white person before. In fact, I’d rather have the kids stare at us than burst into tears out of fear (which also frequently happens.)

The interesting thing about this little girl was that she not only stared, but cautiously inched her way closer and closer to us until she was sitting right up on the dias steps. I smiled, feeling very happy that this church community embraced children enough to allow them to “be themselves” during the service.

Following the message given by one of my teammates, we were invited to lay hands on and pray for anyone who came forward for prayer. As I was moving along the line, praying over some of the women, I felt some little fingers lightly rubbing the back of my hand. Then a small hand was inserted into mine. I peeked down, and sure enough, it was the little girl. At that moment many things began racing through my head.

First of all, I was happy I was praying in the Spirit so I didn’t need to think about what I was going to say next. Secondly, I knew at that moment that there was something special about this little girl. God had placed something inside of her that prompted her to be part of the prayer team without even knowing what or why. The third and most amazing thing happened when I saw this little girl was wearing a pink dress.

Earlier in October, a friend of mine had sent me an e-mail prior to my India/Myanmar trip. In this e-mail my friend described an encounter I would have with a “young girl in a pink dress.” The e-mail went on to say that this little girl was able to “see” in the Spirit and that sometimes she would have dreams where she would see things that frightened her but she wasn’t able to talk about it. I looked for this girl all through the India/Myanmar trip and wasn’t able to find her. When I noticed the pink dress on this little girl, I knew I had! Such a huge gifting for such a little girl! Of course she couldn’t talk about what she saw or what was going on, she was only 2 or 3 years old!

Following the service that day, I asked my African friend and host to introduce me to the little girl and her family. I found out the young girl’s name was Stella. She was attending church with her grandmother and mother. Through my friend’s interpretation I was able to have a talk with Stella and her grandmother. God opened the door for me to speak into their lives, talk about Stella’s gifting and encourage them in ways they could support Stella and each other.

According to my friend, Stella’s life will never be the same. The things we talked about would be repeated to her father and her village. My prayers would be that as a family and a community, they would encourage and support all children, not just Stella, in their growing relationship with the Lord!

Welcome!

Welcome to my blog:…it’s about the Kingdom…

The word Kingdom should be capitalized in the name of my blog, but apparently the theme formatting I’ve chosen doesn’t allow for that. Since I’ve been working on this new site for a bit, and I like what I have so far, I’m willing to let that go – details, details.

About the name…

I was born with a mother who was Catholic and a father who was Baptist. As I grew, I began attending a Missouri Synod Lutheran Church and School. I grew up learning and believing Lutheran doctrine (for the most part),encountered the Holy Spirit in a dramatic way during the Charismatic Movement in the 70′s,and married a man who was raised in the Assemblies of God church. I spent many years volunteering and working professionally in the LCMS. In 2001, I was offered a job as Director of Children’s Ministry in an ELCA church (Lutheran, but a different kind  of Lutheran!)

I was a little unnerved by the shift, but I had prayed about it and decided if God was going to open the door for me to work in an ELCA church, then “they must be okay.” During the 7 years at that church I was invited to apply for a Director of Children’s Ministry position in a large Presbyterian Church in the area. Once again, I committed myself to reading about the doctrines and beliefs of this denomination and seeking the Lord’s guidance in prayer. While I was not chosen for the position, I still had felt the Lord’s permission to seek it. Even though my belief system had not changed, I was open to the fact that God would have allowed me to serve him in the Presbyterian church as well. This was a “light-bulb” moment!

One thing Lutherans are really good at is grace! Even though I didn’t always agree with Christians in other denominations, I have always had the grace to accept them. However, it’s one thing to accept people of other denominations and quite another to serve as one of them! By God’s grace, he opened my eyes to get a glimpse of how big he is. I began to pray about all of the denominational differences I had encountered over the years. Rather than discounting or dismissing those differences, God just allowed them to shrink and shrink and shrink until I could no longer see them. All I could see was God…and everything else paled into comparison. That’s when I knew I could serve him anywhere at anytime in any circumstance…because it was about him…it’s about the kingdom…

Since then, I have had the opportunity to serve God in many cities and countries, alongside many people of many different organizations and denominations. I have discovered that when you open the door, God to shows up and lives change!

I look forward to sharing stories about these Kingdom encounters in this blog. I encourage you to sign up to receive an e-mail when I post something new. (Just enter your e-mail in the box on the right.) I also encourage you to post comments so I get a chance to read your thoughts as well Thanks for visiting! Next up: Stories from Africa!

Cheryl