Sweatin' to the Oldies

We arrived in Nimule on Thursday afternoon after a great adventure. We flew from Entebbe to Moyo, Uganda in a plane that was by far the smallest I had ever flown in. A pilot friend in Virginia had a less than stellar opinion of our airline company, and I was even less confident due to the fairly strong downpour during our takeoff. Thankfully, there were no problems, and we landed an hour or so later on a dirt strip in Moyo. There was one small building next to the airstrip w/ a desk and a few chairs inside. Surrounding this nondescript shack were several tukuls (huts) and a handful of locals who came out to see the great bird land. The next leg of our journey was an hour-long car ride through northern Uganda. We passed into Sudan at the bank of the Nile River. We then paid a local boat owner to take us down the river to Nimule. When we arrived at the dock, we got a couple of local boys to take us on their boda-bodas (motorcycles) to the children’s home, our home for the foreseeable future.

I thought that I would describe for you the physical conditions of South Sudan. Imagine yourself in a sauna. For those of you who went to UF, imagine being mid-field at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in the middle of a Gainesville afternoon during Summer A or B. You cannot shower or shave. You have no soap, shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant, or sunscreen. This continues for four straight days. During this time, you remain fully clothed w/ a short sleeve shirt and long pants. You have only one change of clothes. Hopefully by now I have dispelled any romantic visions of missions work in Africa. It certainly caught me by surprise. Because of the exorbitant cost of bringing our suitcases with us, we were separated from our luggage in Kampala.  It was planned that Pastor Juma would bring our suitcases to Nimule on Friday, but “due to unfortheen thircumtanthes” (about five people reading this will get that reference), his trip has been delayed until Monday. Hopefully, Pastor Juma will arrive by then, and I will be able to enjoy the meager creature comforts I packed that now seem like a care package sent directly from heaven.

I want to tell you about the kids who make up the children’s home here. I thought I would start by telling you the story of Mori Luka. Mori Luka was one of the first kids to join the children’s home. When the missionaries came to Nimule to begin laying the foundation for the children’s home, Mori Luka wandered by one day. His arms were bandaged but had not been redressed. When one of the missionaries took off the bandages to clean his wounds, the stench was overwhelming. After investigating Mori’s situation, they learned that he did have parents who were living, but they were alcoholics who paid little attention to Mori and his needs. He would usually wander around the village by himself. Mori suffers from epilepsy and often has seizures. It is believed that at some point he had a seizure and fell into an open fire, causing the burns on his arms that were later bandaged.

As he was used to wandering around the village on his own and not being a part of a community structure, Mori had difficulties when he first moved to the children’s home. He would often leave the compound w/o telling anyone and be gone for long periods of time. He would even defecate out in the open, b/c it seemed to him a perfectly natural thing to do. With love and attention from the Cornerstone staff and by being a part of a family unit w/ many brothers and sisters, Mori has made great progress. He still has seizures, but they are less frequent and less violent. He attends school and speaks Arabic well. He moves slower than the other kids and sometimes has difficulty understanding what is going on around him, but he is a sweet kid who knows that he is home and surrounded by people who love him.

It struck me the other night that God loves Mori, despite his infirmities and difficulties, just as much as He loves the other kids here and as much as He loves me. This shouldn’t come as a surprise when you think about it. Even though some may say that Mori’s works are inadequate compared to others’, the Bible says that all of our righteous acts are filthy rags. We have all fallen short of the glory of God.

One final word: God bless Coca-Cola and its worldwide supply chain. May its kingdom never end.