New Kids and a Weepy Heart

Things at CCC are a bit different these days. About half of the girls are still at another children's home in Yei, a town about 4-5 hours drive south. This means that things are a bit quieter here than they were last year. I wouldn't say serene, but the feel is overall lighter and less frenetic. With some of the girlies gone, it has made space for new kids.

With all the fighting going on there are many children who are newly orphaned, as well as kids who were injured in the fighting.

There are a group of five new little ones, ages 5-6. They've been here for about two months. They have a pretty incredible story, though I don't know all of the details. So, it's not unusual for some of the ethnic groups here when doing cattle raids and attacking villages, to abduct children. In Bor a soldier took it upon himself to round up these children who had been abducted. There was a group of about 50 of them, and the ministry there worked to find the children's families. They were able to reunite 38 of the 50 kids with their families, which is really quite incredible. When fighting broke out in December in Bor and the town was decimated, the kids were left there alone, with no one responsible for them. Someone got them on an NGO flight out to Juba. But when they arrived, there was no one to collect them, no one who even knew about them, and they had no where to go. Apparently they were just at the airport milling about until someone took pity on them and took them home. A few days later the ministry brought them here. So crazy!

These kids have been through a lot. In the evenings a few of them have nightmares and wake up screaming. One boy has started talking about a woman who would beat them, and then pushed them out into the street during the fighting. Traumatized, is the word.

We have a new baby here. He is about thirteen months old, but no one knows for sure. In the most recent fighting in Bor, (It's genocide. Let's call it what it is.) his mother was killed. He has a deep cut on his leg that was sustained while he was in his mothers arms as she was being killed. They day UNICEF brought him here, he was wailing and crying. The girls know the basics of his story, and were sad and don't understand what sort of people kill mothers and babies. He was wailing and I had to step inside a moment to keep myself together.

He's an amazing kid. So much personality, a beautiful smile. He waves at me when I walk by and the other day, smiling, threw all of his toys at me and told me to take them. "Shiilu! Shiilu!" He doesn't talk enough yet for anyone to be able to find out his name, so he was given a new one. He mostly babbles in his mother tounge, which no one here knows. He is gorgeous and hilarious and I know his mother must have been amazing to have a child this beaming. But she was killed because of her tribe. There is always mercy in a life spared, but I can't help but get a lump in my throat each time I look at him. Why was his mothers life not spared too?

There is so much that I don't understand. I have run out of words of horror and sadness and disbelief about what is happening in this country. There is so much darkness here! And on evenings and weekends Dan and I are trying to plan a wedding. We are thrilled for our life together, and we are preparing to spend lots of money to celebrate that. I'm trying to care about guest lists and cute décor and venues that seem so dang expensive and a dress that I'll feel pretty in and it seems wrong somehow! HOW can I have so much to love and treasure and a viable future and hope and yet GENOCIDE IS HAPPENING HERE.

CCC will be getting two new little girls, about age 8, as soon as they've finished recovering in the hospital from their GUNSHOT WOUNDS sustained when running away from the people killing their families.

I am thankful I can be here now. But I don't know how much more my heart can take. I'm tired. I feel like I have little left to give. I don't want to go but I know for my mental, physical, emotional health, I need an extended break from such stressful circumstances. I have a CHOICE about being here. Such a luxury. I am thankful for all I have and I feel guilty for it. Does one come to a point of resolution inside with all of these mixed feelings and emotions? In understanding this devastating world? I don't think understanding will ever come.

Oh, South Sudan. God must be weeping too.

BIG NEWS

I am back in Juba for the next 6 weeks to try and finish up the project here and pass along my responsibilities in the hopes that it can continue once I go.

I had a very joyful reception from the girls--they literally ran when they saw me. I'm in the process of trying to sort and locate all of the odds and ends, which is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

But that's not the big news.

The big news is that I'M ENGAGED!

 

His name is Dan. He's British and we met in Juba in August, started dating in October, were evacuated together in December and I was able to spend Christmas with him and his family in the UK. We got serious very early on--I'm not one to mess around and Juba is an intense place. At some point I hope to do a little version of our story on the blog, for those who are interested. Fingerprints of the divine all over.

But he's wonderful. I'm twitterpated and smitten head over heels. Which is all very new and delightful for me. And my family and friends are pretty amused to see me like this. I've perhaps been a bit jaded about these things the last few years and, as my dad said when we called him with the good news, I'm not one to get giddy. Especially about a boy. So what a fun, amazing surprise in life. I never dared to hope it could get this good!

I'll try to update the blog over the next several weeks, but my time in South Sudan is going to be intense (it's so hot here!) and any extra mind space I might have is being occupied with plans and ideas for us as we unite our lives.

So, I'm spinning really. Lots going on. It's exciting. And intense--an interesting choice for us to spend the first 6 weeks of our engagement in Juba. As Dan said, we're either very cool and exciting or possibly quite stupid. :)

Thanks for all the love and support. It's proving to be another whirlwind year so far!

More Changes

My plans have changed again. And I am unsurprised. I have settled (somewhat) into the fact that my life is going to remain in an increased state of flux and change for the next several months. By nature of where I'm living and the unstable places I've chosen to live, things are ever in flux. This is compounded by the fact that I am trying to make my plans around another person these days, too. Ah, love. Has us doing things we never thought we would.

In about two weeks I'll be heading back to Juba for, likely, all of April and May.

I'm nervous.

Life is continuing on in a new sort of normal and is stable on the surface. But there is heavy fighting and opposition groups in other parts of the country. Fighting has sporadically broken out in Juba in the last few weeks, but it has been controlled, and there are many, many, many forces in the city. There is stability, but a shaky stability at best. Plus, I'll again be living where I work. A mixed blessing. Don't have to be out and about in the city too much. But, also, I am always at work.

Some of the girls are back at CCC and the rest will return in April. I miss them. I am so very much looking forward to reuniting with them for a little while. And helping at CCC. I'm nervous about diving back in and finding myself burnt-out and stressed-out and overwhelmed all over again. But my little sister has lectured me about boundaries. (Sweet.) And it is only for 2 months. You can do anything for 2 months. It is going to be intense and hard. But I can hack it for 8 weeks. And I feel like, when I left, my work there wasn't quite done. I'm happy to have the chance to go back and try and finish what I started.

Many of my Juba friends with NGO's who were also evacuated are back in the city. I'll have people to look out for me. I won't be all alone. So I'm mustering all the strength and energy I can, trusting God again in all of my weakness, and heading back. I'm planning on heading to the States for a little while in June. I'll need to decompress and recover. This whole year has just been bonkers. So having that as the finish line at the end will help.

Please pray for me, for CCC, for Juba, for South Sudan.

"The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time." Abraham Lincoln

New Friends

I've been able to cross paths with some South Sudanese these last few weeks in Kenya. Some are friends of friends that I've met helping out with a beading project in a slum area once a week. Another is a neighbor here, at the place I'm staying. He's well educated and was working for an embassy in Juba and is on evacuation status here with his family right now. He comes by to visit us and it is enlightening and saddening, usually, talking South Sudan politics with him.

Both he and these other guys that I've met invited me to a South Sudanese church nearby that has just started a few weeks ago. I was able to attend this past Sunday.

It was such a joy to worship in Arabic again! Many of the songs we sang were the same ones I'd sing with the girls at CCC, and one of them was even a song that I learned in Ktown with my boys there. Heart swell!

It was a powerful service. About 45 people. Crying out to God, praying for fighting to stop, for peace in their land, for strength in this new place.

After worship, a guy got up and talked about how important it is for the South Sudanese to be interceding right now. He said to pray for the country, for the government, for the opposition, for Kiir and Machar. He emphasized praying for peace. He told people to pray so that they could all go back home. Whoa.

So people started praying in their mother tounges. There was Arabic, Nuer, Bari, Dinka, and others. When he closed he talked about Genesis 18 where Abraham is interceding for Sodom. Where Abraham asks God if he finds 50 righteous if he would spare the city and God says for 50 righteous he will spare it. Then Abraham asks if he finds 45, 40, 30...down to 10. And God says if he finds 10 righteous he will not destroy the city. The man prayed, "God, find 10 righteous! Do not destroy South Sudan!" I had to dab my eyes and so did many others.

Throughout the service it was reiterated to be encouraged, to have hope, be strong, and pray, and pray, and pray. So many of us feel helpless here. I and my ex-pat friends in Kenya are saddened and confused. Angry. Eager to help but at a loss in many ways as to how. But we're standing with South Sudan in prayer and I ask that you would too.

I am grateful for the community of South Sudanese I've stumbled upon here and look forward to interacting with them more. I count it a gift, an answer to prayer. He is good. In light of so much that is beyond my comprehension, he is good.

Fighting Continues

The fighting continues in South Sudan. Juba is quiet, but in other parts of the nation there is fighting. Ugly, ugly fighting. The fighting is tribal in nature. But it is deeper and more complex than that. These are not new issues flaring up. They are issues that are deep seated and have long histories, but that have been swept under the rug in the name of independence and before that while they were fighting a common enemy--the North.

Reports are coming out about some of the atrocities that are happening. War is horrific. It is something that I can't wrap my mind around. I don't think fighting is a good way to solve anything, but I won't pretend that I have the answers to these things either. Perhaps its one thing if its soldiers and armies fighting opposing solders and armies. It is not something I understand, but it is at least something that seems in some (twisted) way, logical.

But this fighting has not just been the government against the opposition. Hospitals are being targeted. Women are being raped and beheaded. Children and disabled people are being shot. People have been rounded up and shot just based on their ethnicity. People are crying out for peace and unity while what little infrastructure South Sudan had built up is being destroyed.

So many of us are struggling to understand. We know that evil exists in the world, but what is it that is in people that is capable of such destruction? This is beyond fighting for a cause that people believe in and in many instances it is destruction for destructions sake.

There are lots of issues. Lack of accountability for atrocities in the past. People who have been living in an independent South Sudan for a few years now and have yet to see any benefits or improvements in their own lives. People are frustrated and angry. And I know that I don't even begin to understand all of it.

And it seems hopeless to many. Is peace even possible? And I think that those who are being realistic see that if it is that it is something that will take many, many years. Decades.

I've crossed paths with a few of South Sudanese refugees here in Nairobi. One is a guy from one of the two main tribes who are fighting. He managed to escape Juba during the fighting--no small thing--as people from his tribe who are still in Juba don't even dare to venture out of the IDP camps. He has family still there. Another is a guy who just came from Malakal, in the northern part of the country. Where the opposition has taken and, from what I can gather from a lot of the reports, basically have destroyed and looted much of the town. There is fighting there because of the close proximity to oil fields and both sides want to be control of the oil. A very powerful card to have.

I think many of us feel powerless. I do, anyway. I can't be in South Sudan right now. And, truthfully, I don't want to be because I don't think I could cope right now. But if I were, what could I even do? Everything I could offer feels so insignificant in light of massive losses of life.

I hope to keep connecting with the South Sudanese community here. It is nice to feel connected. Though, powerless still. They have lost everything and still have families in unsafe areas that they can't get ahold of. I've had a rough year. But how can I even say that? I know that it is not a comparison game. But I am sad. Very sad. It is beyond my comprehension. So I keep praying though I don't always have the words. And I ask that you would do the same.

What Now

While I was back in Juba I discussed with the director about a return trip in May or so. She would like to try to bring the girls back from Juba at that time. I mostly want to go, get a proper good-bye, check in with how they're doing with the handcraft stuff and have a refresher with them. I'll be glad to have an opportunity to see how things have (hopefully?) normalized a bit. And I just love their lil faces and will be delighted, smitten, to see them.

I'll also be helping from afar a bit. Sending templates and beading designs and helping them keep the money sorted and organized as they continue to sell the girls things out of CCC. I realize the money and organization of it will likely be disastrous, as these things often go when the person heading up something is no longer there. All the more reason why I'm glad a return trip is on the horizon.

So I'm excited that a return and check-in trip is being talked about and planned on. But I am disappointed in myself to say, that I am glad that I am not going to be in Juba until June as was the plan a few months ago. Just being back for those few days even without the girls was enough to remind me why I feel exhausted and burnt-out. Juba is hard. Living where I worked and with 37 children was hard. It was a give-your-all sort of situation, and I did. I gave my all and I was happy to do it. But it has left me with very little energy or in reserve. Even though I loved my work and I loved the girls, I can't cope with being accessible by 37 children and 15 staff all the time for more than a season.

My pace of life needs to slow down and I need to be involved in work that is less demanding for a little while. My member care team and leadership are concerned for me. It's nice to have people I respect not be as hard on me as I am on myself. My heart is still in Africa. And I am still absolutely committed to helping vulnerable children and sharing Christ with those who have never heard. But my cup is empty. I have been emptied and these last 3 years, esp this last year, has been really hard. So I'm not stopping, but I am slowing down. I have chosen to be involved in these projects very intensely. And I am still going to be involved in helping kiddos and vulnerable women, but in a less intense way for a little while.

The next few months I'm going to be doing some illustrations for a project informing kids about sexual abuse and teaching them that their bodies belong to them. I'll also be helping a woman working with poor non-believing women in a slum here in Nairobi. She's training them to do bead work. A different sort of beading than I do, but I'm happy to help and learn. She is heading up the project, not me, an important distinction. I love this work, but I am happy not to be the one in charge and responsible for it for a while.

There also could be some opportunities working with Sudanese here in Nairobi. We'll see what happens with that but I'm thrilled with the prospect of being able to help a people that I love and hopefully getting to use my Arabic!

Entering a new season that is a little ambiguous, but shaping up to be full of possibility as well as hopefully somewhat restorative.

"We belong to a generation that wants to see the results of our work. We want to be productive and see with our own eyes what we have made. But that is not the way of the God's kingdom. Often our witness for God does not lead to tangible results... As faithful witnesses of Jesus we have to trust that our lives too will be fruitful, even though we cannot see their fruit." Henri Nouwen

To Juba and Back

I went to Juba for a few days last week. To collect my things, meet with the director, get the girls money sorted, get a refund from Ethiopian Airways. Wrap up loose ends.

It was strange being back after the way I left. There were soldiers everywhere. In all sorts of different uniforms. South Sudanese soldiers in every shade of camo (beige, blue, green) and Ugandan troops. I have never seen so much heavy artillery in my life. Juba was a city with a pretty heavy military presence before the December crisis, but not only are there now soldiers with AK-47s everywhere, on every major road are groups of soldiers set up with giant guns. I have no idea what they're called, but the big ones that are mounted in the back of pick-ups. So many. Good grief.

I didn't find it unsettling. Nor did I find it comforting. Just a reminder, really of the air of uncertainty that remains. Juba is still operating under an 8pm-6am curfew. And when I went for my morning jogs there are far less people out in the morning. Otherwise, Juba seems to be shuffling right along in the day to day. There is a calm in the city as people have gone back to routines, but it is an unsteady calm. A facade of normalcy. People know that the conflict continues. There are IDP camps. And people from certain tribes scared to even venture out of these camps, fearing for their lives if they do. Tragic.

I arrived Monday morning and happened to walk into the first staff meeting since the crisis. It was joyous to see all the staff again. Smiles and hugs abounded. As I was there a few days I learned that the brother of the boyfriend of one of our day staff was killed in the fighting in December. Staff haven't been paid because some of CCC's funding has been pulled to be used for emergency aid by the agencies instead.

The girls remain in Yei for now. It is safer for them there. Especially with so many soldiers in the city. Our girls are quite vulnerable and it's not a good situation. I have a few friends who live there and agreed to deliver little typed notes that I wrote for each girl. It's weird and hard having left the way I did and being at CCC without them there. They are dear to me.

It took me two days to track down where the girls money had ended up. I was very relieved when I finally had it in hand. Only to count what was there, and have my heart sink. About 2,700 ssp (About $650) had gone missing, even though it had been locked away. Hard to find out exactly what happened during those chaotic days. Likely some of the girls? But I really don't know. Hugely disappointing, in any case. (Some of my clothes and shoes that I had packed away also somewhat mysteriously went missing.)

This was the girls money that they'd earned for their savings. I can't very well divide up the loss and punish all of the girls. So I used my own money to make up the difference. It is now all tucked away in the safe. (When I was evacuated the person with the safe key wasn't there and so I couldn't have put it in there before I left.) There is a corresponding list of amounts and names. But I'm nervous. I'm nervous that the girls may not ever actually get the money that is theirs. I'll be devastated. And really, really angry. But for many of them it's a few years out, when they'd be able to access their savings. So it's something I need to relinquish control of because I can't control it. Ah, like so much else.

It's a relief to be back in Nairobi and it feels strange. It is not at all the sort of place I expected to find myself settling for any length of time. But here I am. Life seems to be full of things we could never even try to plan. I am planning on returning to Juba sometime in the next several months. But I think I'll save that for the next post.

"Vines must be pruned. This looks like a cruel business. Perfectly good branches have to be lopped off in order for better branches to develop. It is a necessary business, for only the well-pruned vine bears the best fruit. The life of the vine is strengthened in one part by another parts being cut away. The rank growth has to go and then the sun reaches places it could not reach before." Elisabeth Elliot.