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Hey everyone

We just redesigned our YWAM Madison website. Now, you can view all our blogs in one place. Check out the DTS blog at http://blog.ywammadison.org/topics/dts.

See ya on our great new website!

In Northern Uganda, hundreds of thousands have fled the Lord’s Resistance Army. They found shelter in displacement camps but continued to suffer from harsh living conditions and lack of food. Our team of 12 journeyed north to help them. Watch our journey of adventure, healing, and the fulfillment of a vision and a man’s 25-year prayer for the salvation of his family.

Our DTS team from Youth With A Mission Madison aided an orphanage that houses 50 kids in Kenya. We cooked, cleaned, painted, fed babies and played with the kids. We also learned the dramatic stories of their rescue from forests and dumpsters.

Baobab Trees

by Talasi

Around the Baobab

It would take 15 people to get all the way around this tree

 

Wow… I’ve never seen anything like this. I’m at a loss for words as I stand here and gaze at these magnificent giants. I feel so small; so overwhelmed; so enchanted.

These are called Baobab Trees. We saw them for the first time as we travelled through the bush on our way to Kathyaka. We’re told that they have been around for centuries. I can’t even imagine how many hundreds of years it would take for a tree to grow to be this size.
I wonder what they would say if they could speak… what ancient stories they would tell us of generations past. Perhaps an account of this place and its people; of the droughts survived and the hardships endured. I’m quickly reminded that time does not revolve around me or the world I know. There is a deep history here, and I imagine that these giant trees could tell it all.

Jamie and Evynn climb Baobab tree

Jamie and Evynn climb Baobab tree

 

I must be seeing a glimpse of the Cedars of Lebanon I’ve read about in the Bible. I’m utterly awestruck at the magnificent power and creativity of God. That He simply spoke and created all this!

God, your works are so wonderful–too wonderful for me to comprehend.

Video of our adventurous journey north to work with refugees who had fled the Lord’s Resistance Army. Other videos will be uploaded soon to lay out what kind of work we did with the refugees.

Some of our work in Pader is described in these two stories:

Under the Mango Tree

In All Things, Give Thanks… and a Chicken…

In Kenya, we went on safari. We saw giraffes, zebras, antelopes and wildebeasts

Katie and Tal trash talk over their competition of who could go the longest without brushing their teeth in Africa.

by Paul, DTS Leader

Job's family waited for us under the shade of the mango tree

Our pickup truck bounced down the dirt road, kicking up a trail of red dust clouds. The truck swerved around a giant termite mound and I grabbed the side of the truck bed. We finally pulled to a stop between two mud huts, where a dozen people waited beneath a cluster of mango trees.

I glanced at Job, the man who brought us to Pader. He looked nervous. Would his twenty-five year prayer be answered today?

Jall,” an elderly man greeted us. Hello. He led us to a circle of wooden chairs in the shade. The man was Job’s father.

Apoyo matec,” I said shaking his hand. Thanks so much for having us.

“We are so honored that you came today,” he said in Luo. He introduced each of his family members who sat with us in the circle.

Job gestured for me to stand and for our team to introduce ourselves.

“We are so happy to be here,” I said. “When we were in America, we were praying and God told us to come to northern Uganda to tell you that He has not forgotten you.”

War had engulfed northern Uganda for the past twenty-five years. The Lord’s Resistance Army had swept through the countryside murdering thousands, raping women and forcing children to become soldiers. Job fled south and his family moved into the refugee camps after their homes were burned. For twenty-five years, Job prayed for his family. Of the 300 people in his clan, only two were Christians.

In 2007, he received some very encouraging news. His friend saw a vision of a missionary team visiting his family and of a church being planted.

Were we that team? I wondered.

Our team of ten split into pairs and set out in different directions to visit each of the homes in Job’s village. Jaedn and I stayed with Job and his family under the mango trees. My mind raced with thoughts of a message God had just given me.

“I’ve learned much about honor since I came to Uganda,” I began. “Last night I was given a chicken’s back (a great honor in Pader). Everywhere we go, people welcome us into their homes. You also honored us greatly today.” I paused, glancing around the circle. “But there is someone more worthy of honor than I. He is the one who made these mango trees under which we sit and the sun from which they shade us.”

I told Job’s family the story of creation. I told them of the fall, when men stopped honoring God. I told them of Israel, who were enslaved and refugees in Egypt when God rescued them and brought them back to their lands. And I told them of Jesus who came to restore our relationship with God.

“This God deserves your honor. Are you ready to honor him today?”

My gaze slowly moved around the circle.

“My mother wants to give her life to God,” Job said, his eyes glassy with tears. “And my father, grandmother, niece and nephew.”

They bowed their heads, waiting for God to show them any sins that had separated them from him. Silently, they asked God’s forgiveness for whatever sins He reminded them of.

“There’s one last thing we should do,” I said, a smile spreading across my face. “Each of us should publicly honor God.”

I stood to model what they would do. “I thank God for bringing me here so I could learn what true honor is.”

Job’s father stood next. “I thank God for giving me a son like Job.”

A few minutes later, my teammates returned with similar stories of people giving their lives to God. In all, eighteen people became Christians. And now, those new believers want to start a church under the mango trees.

by Katie, DTS Student

YWAM Madison DTS Uganda

Huts in the Pader refugee camps

The hot afternoon sun beat down on me as I followed our translator down the narrow path of the remote village in Pader, Uganda. We were right behind Evynn and a villager we’d just met. In the distance, a cluster of mud huts peaked out of the tall African grass. Twenty minutes later, we finally reached our destination. What would we discover in the village? Would the villagers want us to pray for them? And how would God answer our prayers?

A middle-aged woman stood outside the first hut. Several chickens strutted about and pecked at the ground. Our translator explained to her that we wanted to pray for people. He asked if she or someone in her family would like prayer. The woman beckoned us inside her home to meet her father.

I followed her, avoiding the chickens and ducking my head to clear the doorway.

Jall,” an elderly man greeted us. Hello, how are you?

The man’s limp body slumped onto a small stool. “I’m sorry I cannot do more to welcome you,” he told us through our translator. His voice was weak, raspy. “A few weeks ago, a group of thieves attacked me and left me for dead. Please, please pray for me.”

Evynn and I knelt beside the old man, gently resting our hands on his shoulders. We prayed that God would take away his pain. And we prayed that his heart would be free from bitterness so he could experience the healing power of forgiveness.

As I prayed, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude sweep over me. I felt like God was showing me how He’d cradled the old man on the night of the attack, how He’d sent angels to protect him and ensure his rescue. I remembered the verses that talk about giving thanks in all circumstances.

And then it struck me how much this man really could be grateful for: God had preserved his life!

After we prayed with the man, we said goodbye and turned to leave. We had just stepped outside when the woman stopped us.

“Please don’t leave yet!” she called out.

She hurried past me and snuck up behind a plump hen. Before I knew what was happening, she snatched the hen’s legs, her hands a blur.

“Take this,” she said, lifting the chicken into the air. “It’s our gift to you. We only wish we could give you more.”

Our translator grabbed the struggling, noisy chicken and I chuckled to myself. Isn’t that just how God works? He sent us to bring hope to an injured old man. He taught me how to give thanks no matter what the circumstance. And now He gave our team a chicken for dinner!

Mzungu

by Talasi, DTS Student

Ugandan school children - YWAM Madison DTS - Children at Risk Outreach - Uganda

Evynn & Talasi love playing with the school children in southern Uganda.

“Mzungu! Mzungu!”

No matter where I go, happy little voices call out after me “Mzungu! Mzungu!” I never tire of it; in fact, it enchants me every time.

Mzungu is a Swahili word. They use it here in Africa to describe us Westerners. It is not a negative or derogatory term at all. In fact, most times I hear it spoken with great excitement. As we travel down the dusty Ugandan roads, children wave from their homes or run out to greet us and shriek with delight, “Hey, Mzungu!”

While I love the sound of it, I can say that my excitement is not about the word itself. Instead, I’m enchanted by the faces of the children who shout this out to us when they see us coming. It’s the way they laugh and smile when an intriguing stranger waves to them and says “hello!” Their enthralled voices, their innocent enthusiasm, their vibrant smiles… they bring such pure and perfect joy to my heart.

I don’t know all of their stories, I am blessed to know that God’s eye is upon these children, and He calls each one by name.

Thank you, God, for these precious children. Thank you for preserving their innocence in such a hard world.

I will miss being called “Mzungu” when I return to North America. This word, and all that comes with it, has become a part of me here. My heart will treasure it always.

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