April 16, 2015 – POC Camp, Melut
Everywhere we go with the boys, people stare. They see
foreigners around town but it is a new and unusual thing for them to see kwadja
(foreign/white) children. The other day
I sent Evan to a small shop with his friend to buy some rice. A UN guy pulled
his car over to ask Evan questions because he thought it so peculiar to see a
little white boy with his Sudanese buddy walking along. A few days before, Isaac, Evan and Joshua
went with some of their friends to buy mangoes from the mango grove about a
half mile from our house. While walking along the river some men from the
Indian battalion who were swimming in the river noticed the boys, rushed out of
the water, grabbed their phones and started snapping photos with the boys!
Again, it seemed strange and bizarre to them to see these three boys walking
along with their friends. The question they’re asking is: “What are they doing
here?!”
Since December 2013, the Nuer tribe in Melut and its
surrounding areas have had to hide in a small camp called the POC (Protection
of Civilians) camp on the UN compound here in Melut. Today our family and
teammate Claire went to visit the friends we have in the camp. Before we even
got to the entrance of the camp, children started flooding out to see us. They
were most excited to see the boys and crowded around, all wanting to shake our
hands and ask our names. These dear people have lived in this small camp on the
UN compound for 16 months! The women go out to go to market but the men do not
leave. They keep themselves busy by volunteer teaching all their children (they
have a small school set up in two canvas tents that teaches grade 1-6!) and
holding prayer and worship meetings. We were so overjoyed to be reunited with
many of our dear friends. It was immediately apparent that our tall, thin
friends had somehow grown even thinner. Children ran around with reddish hair
(a sign of malnourishment) and barely clothed. But their smiles were huge! They
were thrilled to have 6 new visitors.
Eli and the boys stayed in a makeshift tent with the men
while Claire and I walked over to join the family of one of our college
graduates’ family. We spent some time catching up and then they informed us
that they were about to have a prayer meeting for a woman who was sick. We
walked over to her house and found chairs set up outside. I knelt to get in the
door and though the ground was swept clean, all that was inside was a mat with
a woman lying on it. She couldn’t seem to open her eyes all the way and she
looked very weak and dehydrated. We found out her name is Rebecca. Men and
women from their local church body gathered and we sang a few songs and opened
with prayer. Then a man, probably around 40 years old and already missing most
of his teeth stood up and began to share what ailed this woman. His story broke
my heart.
In December 2013, this man’s wife died. Rebecca, this sick woman, traveled from her home in Nasir (quite a
distance), to come and visit/comfort the grieving family, leaving her husband
and 4 children behind but pregnant with her 5th. While she was here,
the fighting broke out between the Dinka and Nuer tribes and she had to seek refuge
at the UN camp along with the rest of the Nuer. Since then she has been stuck
here and gave birth to a little girl in the camp. She has been separated from
her children and her husband and thus her sickness is a form of deep
depression. She hardly eats or drinks and just lies on the mat all day. She has
a nursing baby but by the sight of a baby bottle on the ground in her tent, I
don’t think she’s able to produce the milk her baby needs. I was so deeply
saddened to hear the story of this woman’s tragic separation from her family
but also the guilt and sadness that this man carried because it was he and his
family that this woman had come to visit.
The man leading the service asked if anyone had anything to
share and then he directly asked me. I had been sitting there thinking of the
verses from Hebrews 12:1-3 that I’d just read that morning and so, spur of the
moment I agreed to share an encouragement from the Word of God. I wanted her to
be able to hear, so I asked if we could duck into her tent to speak directly to
her. The man came along to translate into Nuer language. Her eyes were open and
she stared at me blankly as I encouraged her to press on, fixing her eyes on
Jesus, remembering that He is with her, He will strengthen her and comfort her,
and He is her hope. The whole group of
about 20 believers prayed earnestly for her. When we finished and got up to go
I noticed tears falling down her face. I hope I can return again in a few days
and check on her. There is not much I can say or do but I want her to know she
is loved and she is not alone.
Meanwhile, the whole time this little prayer service was
going on, Isaac, Evan and Joshua were hanging out in a tent with a good friend
of ours. Children kept huddling in the doorway to get a good look at them and every few minutes an old man would swing
a switch/whip around to scare the children away. I couldn’t believe how well
the boys were doing after sitting in the tent for almost 3 hours with not much
to entertain them! The sun was setting so we knew we had to hurry and leave so
we could walk home before dark. Our boys shook hands with the children as we
walked out of the camp and waved goodbye. I was so so proud of them. I know it
wasn’t fun for them. I know they had to sit and wait in the heat. But they
didn’t complain. I’m so thankful God gave us these amazing boys. They truly do
serve right alongside us and are such a key part of our ministry!
My feet are dusty and I’m exhausted but my heart is so full.
God has given me such a deep love for these people and I am already thinking
about how and when I can get back to see them. I’m not sure what good I can be
and how I can help but I do know just my presence with them on a hot dusty
afternoon was enough today.
