UGANDA – Arrived safely in Karamoja, and it’s been amazing so far. The locals still call me by my Karamojong name, “Lukiru” (one who brings rain). It’s like I never left. In many ways, this area is cut off from even most of Uganda, with its own unique culture… with very little food, electricity, and running water, it has its share of unique challenges as well. Relentless poverty and addiction keeps this area in bondage like I’ve never seen. Begging is nothing new in these parts of the world, but never more desperately than what I see here. People living on a homemade alcohol which is highly intoxicating and addictive.
But the Lord is able. I’ve seen it first hand. There’s something about ministering to the morbidly poor that both challenges and increases my faith. There is a particular clarity to the Lord’s voice and leading. He really is, everywhere. My favorite thing is going into the isolated mountain villages and telling people the Good News! – sometimes they’re hearing it for the first time in their lives. I get blessed beyond words. We travel on a motorbike as far as we can go and then do the rest on foot.
“…Yet He is not partial to princes, Nor does He regard the rich more than the poor; For they are all the work of His hands.“ (Job 34:19)
Visiting a remote village in the mountain region. these protective twig fences around the villages are surprizingly strong – they keep the place secure, and keep out cattle thieves (long story…). As usual, the kids are the first to greet The ChiefHe told me that we are now brothers (he was right!)Going on foot to another village. I like this picture because it captures (accurately) the locals watching me wherever I go (something you get used to, when you’re a Mzungu.)Met this woman on the way. Very frail and sick, laying under a tree all day. (The white stuff all over me is from lifting bags of “posho.”) Sharing JesusShe wanted me to meet her family
GETTING THERE
I took a small plane to Northern Uganda – being rainy season the roads are very dangerousHere’s an aerial view of a Karamojong village. (That’s South Sudan in the distance to the left)The welcome committee! There’s no airport, or even a building here. Nothing. Just a dirt road. plane landing in Karamoja
LOCAL HOSPITAL “In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears.” (Psalm 18:6)
This man was beaten by rogue soldiersThis woman is suffering from a liver disease (maybe cancer) her baby stays there with very little food. This family is next door to where I am staying. They greet me every morning.Same picture close up – precious kids!We (KBI) paid for this boy’s tuition (he’s holding the receipt in his hand)The schoolMy good friend Aure’s house.Aure’s family. The local barbers. This place became a regular hangout. They give me a haircut – we’d end up having church right there.Two Karamojong girlsTwo (yes 2) Karamojong Warriors!I have been given so much favor with this community. God is GOOD!Some of you were asking what do I eat… This (plus sometimes rice) is it most days. The green thing is an avocado. I brought the cans from Kampala Changing it up a bit (pineapple and peanuts.)yeah… and avoiding meat
