They are marching for the martyrs.  Do you know what that is?

She asks me and I just nod, I watch the men, women and children marching along the road.

They come from all over, see that woman?  She's coming from Kenya.  Those people are from Tanzania.  They come from all over Africa and they all march to Kampala in memory of all those killed for the gospel. 


I used to flip through "Voice of the Martyr's" magazine, intrigued by the fact that so many people suffer for the gospel, and dreaming of the day when I would walk those dirt roads, hold those chocolate colored little hands and be near to the persecution.

Today, I call Uganda home.

A place almost destroyed by a man who thought himself God.  Killing thousands, brainwashing soldiers and hurting so many lives.

A place with 12 % Muslims- where I hear the the call to prayer as I walk down the main street.

A place were pastors have been attacked with acid, leaving them to deal with pain, but giving them more strength than ever.

A place with so much beauty despite the despair they have seen.

They keep marching.

And I wonder- if the United States of America faced persecution like those in Africa would we still be marching?

Would you? 

I've noticed something about American Christians after being in Africa.  We are lukewarm.  We do not feel the weight of 147 million orphans or 27 million slaves or 200 million Christians who suffer persecution in some degree for their faith.  We've built walls around ourselves and allowed ourselves not to feel anymore.  We've become lazy.  Yes, we go on mission trips and take pictures of things that make us feel for a moment.  But once we are back to our country with our walls pulled up around us, we don't have to feel anymore.  We convince ourselves that that is not our responsibility.  We don't need to go clothe those half-naked children, we don't have need to feed those starving families, we don't need to walk along side that persecuted church. We convince ourselves that it's a missionary's job- not realizing that we all should be on mission for Christ. We convince ourselves that we don't need to do anything for Christ to love us, because He'll love us if we only believe in Him.

And that's true.

Jesus holds a promise that he will always love us, no matter what may come.

And that's beautiful.

But with something so beautiful and with Someone who did so much for us shouldn't we long to go far and beyond and feel more than we ever have?

Shouldn't we see that child and say "I cannot leave you as an orphan."?

Shouldn't we see that persecuted church and say "I'll stand beside you no matter what comes."? 

Shouldn't we see that starving family and say "I'll stop at nothing to see you fed and healthy."? 

Shouldn't that be natural?

It was natural to Jesus-it was Who He was- love and grace and goodness.

He walked the dirty and broken road.  He chose to love the prostitutes and thieves, instead of gaining popularity and wealth with the teachers.

I'd rather be popular with the sinners than with the Christians, because that would mean I was doing something right.

I'm not saying I have all this figured out.  But I'm trying.  Not everything comes natural, but I'm striving for the day that it will.


"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.  Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." -Matthew 5:11- 12 

I see them marching on and on with their umbrellas blocking the African sun, babies tied to backs, water jugs empty and bouncing against their hips, their feet pound upon the hard African ground, bundles tied on their heads, they still have a long way to go- but their burdens fell upon the cross miles and miles ago. 

I see them marching on and on and on, and they have it figured out.  They have felt the pain, but they have heard the news that they are blessed because of it, so, they keep on marching. 

Then, I hear it.  

Their voices lifted high for a King who sees every pain, every heartbreaks and every fear.

And if they who have lost and lived far more than I have, keep marching, than so will I... until I see His face.

Will you?

That Time I House Hunted in Africa.

For anyone wondering how we found our home in the middle of Uganda, Africa... it was no easy task!

We went to Soroti with Tom (my friend, Susan's brother) already searching for a house for us to rent.  He had found 2 and was excited to show them to us, and so were we.  We arrived in Soroti at 11:30am, after a 6 hour car ride.  We pulled into the neighborhood that Tom had in mind for us and then went to see if the owners of the homes were there.

The first house was a duplex, it was all locked up so we peered through the windows and decided that it seemed much too small.  The real thing that turned me off was the occupants of the other home had a terrifying looking dog and much of their stuff was overflowing into the other side of the yard.  So we walked to the next house, it was tiny.  But it was more than enough for me, Susan and Amy. AND it was a extremely low price, with a very safe neighborhood. We decided to call the owner and ask a couple questions and then see when we could meet with him.  A worker there told us "Someone came yesterday to pay."  We called the owner to double check, and someone had come the day before and paid.  We were bummed.

We headed to the taxi park where there was supposedly some brokers who knew of some homes for rent.  After waiting in the hot car for a couple hours we found a broker who said for a fee of $15 he would help us find a home.  We went to a small cafe got some lunch and waited for him to call with houses.  Of course he called as soon as we sat down to eat.  We rushed our lunch and went to pick up the broker and he was going to show us a couple houses. The first house was all locked up, but it looked very promising.  Problem was the owner wouldn't be back until later that day.  The second house was a duplex (which we had told the broker we didn't want), it was nice, but there was a single man living next door, and I wasn't especially  fond of that idea.  The last house he took us to was an apartment.  It was gorgeous, but I wasn't convinced that it was what we wanted.  Onward we went.

We dropped off the broker and picked up another guy who said he knew of a house.  We went with him to an older lady's home.  Let's just say one of the "bedrooms" was too small for a mattress.  We ended the day, tired and grumpy and went to a hotel in town.  It was so refreshing.

The next morning we went to find internet while we waited for the broker to show us the first house (the one that looked promising). He told us the owners would be there in a couple hours.  We'd call again after a couple hours past.  He said they were on their way... they'd be there in a couple hours.  Susan and I took a long walk and looked for the spray painted "house for rent" on the walls.  We found a couple only to call the number and find out they were already taken. After 2 hours of wondering, we went back and then headed to dinner.

At 7:30pm the owners finally pulled into town.  It was pouring rain and thundering... I think it reflected how we were all feeling at that point.  We pulled into the house, and it still seemed so promising.  Until we opened the door, and realized the inside was basically complete concrete and need so much work.  The electricity and power were not connected yet and there was a wheelbarrow and tools sitting in the living room.  We headed back to the hotel.  Simply exhausted and on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Next morning we visited a house, it was a good house, but the amount they wanted was too much, and I felt very uneasy about it.  We decided to go back to the apartment and see if we could possibly rent it.  It would work for us for the time being and then we could move out in a couple months.  Seeing it a second time made us realize how gorgeous it was.  We went into town to meet the owner and he told us he wasn't sure he trusted the "whites" to pay, he had a European man move out without paying his bills.  But, if we could get the money to him before the other interested family we could have the apartment.  We made a wild dash to the ATM, only to realize I had a cap on my account and couldn't withdraw the money needed.  We borrowed money from a good friend and then made a dash back to the owner... we got there just as the other family was walking out- they had beat us to it.   To say we were frustrated would be an understatement.

We decided to go back and meet with the duplex owner (the one with the single man next door) and see what he said and if we could look at it again. The way he talked to us automatically turned Susan and I off.  He basically told me that because I was white I would be in danger, unless I made a 6 month payment, then he would build a concrete fence and all would be good. Already not fond of the house we decided it was a no go.  We dropped off the broker and told him we didn't need him anymore.  We had began to realize that he was taking up more of our time than needed, and he simply wasn't showing us what we had asked for.  So, we began the search on our own.  We knocked on gates, looked at couple houses for rent, and then walked down the road, and knocked on more gates. We finally found a gorgeous duplex, and asked if we could meet with owner in the morning.  After that we went back to the hotel, got a delicious dinner and went to bed hopeful.

The next morning we met the owner and he told us he wanted $700 US dollars for one month rental- which is completely outrageous there. We told him no thanks and went back to knocking on gates.  We had called a missionary family (who I had met by chance earlier on when I was volunteering at the babies home) and they told us to go to a shop where a lady worked and ask her if she knew of any houses- because usually she did.  We tried one last neighborhood.  That's when we found it.

We pulled into a little pink house, kinda in the middle of nowhere- houses spread out a bit with a couple grass roofed huts here and there. The yard was stunning with 2 HUGE mango trees, 3 orange trees, a papya tree, several matoke trees, and passion fruit. The house was gorgeous and perfect, but still a humble. It wasn't too big, or too small.  It wasn't too far from town, but it was more in the direction of the village. Oh, and it was within our budget.  We also found out that the missionary family we called earlier on is renting our landlords other house in town! We stumbled upon this house by ourselves! AND there are many children in the neighborhood, which is exciting because that will bring yet another way to minister in our own neighborhood as well as the village.  I'm glad we didn't settle for anything less.  So blessed by a God who knows exactly what we need, He loves and provides for His children!

I am looking forward to all the adventures that are to be had in this home.  

There is a village full of orphans.

I have seen it.

I have met these children.

I have met children who don’t know their age.

I have met children who had their parents killed by rebel soldiers.

I have met children who have been abandoned twice.

I have met children who wander around all day looking for food to fill their empty stomachs.

I have met aunties and uncles who are struggling to provide.

I have met a crippled grandmother raising 12 grandchildren.

I have seen the despair.

I have seen their dim eyes and torn clothes.

I have seen their rotten teeth.

I have seen the malnutrition bellies.

I have seen the filth.

I have felt the weight of their stories.

But there’s hope.

You see, every time we mention our plans for Onyerai village we are told of how badly it is needed.

 

A plumber came to repair some small things in our house, and asked what our plans were.  We told him.  He told us that he himself is caring for 5 nieces and nephews because of the rebel army, and it’s not easy. 

Some of the village people were told, and the women welcomed us and shared their stories.  The next day they asked our friend when we would be coming back- they were overjoyed for their children.

Yesu Asobola Ministries is a God-ordained project, every thing that has happened has revealed that He is in this.  These are His beloved children, and He has great plans for them.

Hope is growing.

Yesu Asobola

When God opens a door, you run through it.

When God gives you a vision, you go for it.

When God opens your eyes to a need, you don't pretend you don't see it.

When God whispers to your heart, you listen.

When God asks of you the hard, you take hold of His hand.

When God provides you with everything you need, you praise Him.


Yesu Asobola- Jesus is able.

A school.  In the poverty and war torn area.  It was two friends and I who sat on the patio and dreamed of it. God open the doors so wide that there was nearly no hesitation.  This was for us.

There's a village in north-eastern Uganda.  It's filled with children who have felt the lasting effects of the war. They are mostly orphaned by HIV/AIDS.  How can I overlook the need?  How can I know these children are there and walk away? How can I return to the comforts of home and not even care?

Our dream unfolded before our eyes, and I was amazed, and am amazed by the hand of God. Every detail, everything had been worked out- He even provided the land!  Our school will be a school and a home for the children who have no family.  We will provide health and parenting education.  We will provide a 6 months trade school program for those who are older and do not want to complete school, but long for a future to provide for themselves.  We also hope to have a small clinic, church, garden, goats and chickens.

Here's the deal- to see this become reality we need the people of Christ to arise and support us- financially, in prayer and in doing. We hope to travel visiting churches, speaking about our love for Uganda and our village kids, sharing our visions.  We need to raise $300,000.  We also need teams who are willing to come and build. We need you.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress. 

For I know the plans I have for you." declares the Lord "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. 

 ^{Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.} 

Our command is to care for the orphan.  If you call yourself a Christian and I have brought awareness to these orphans in Soroti, Uganda, then you are now responsible.

If you are interested in hosting us at your church or "doing" in Uganda or have any questions at all email us at- yesuasobola@yahoo.com

Visit us on Facebook and our Website.

One Year Ago

One year ago today I left the comforts of home and traveled to Uganda.  

I fell in love with beautiful babies. 

With little boys who are resilient and joy filled.

With baby girls who grew healthier under the care of Amani.

With little girls so beautiful. 

Then I returned home.

And life returned back to the norm.  

But I missed it.  I missed Uganda A LOT.  I knew I had to go back, and I knew I wanted to stay longer.  

So in November I returned- for 6 months.  

And every day there was a blessing.  

Every day was filled with their "auntie, auntie!" and little hugs and kisses and fingers wrapped tightly around mine.  

I love them.  

I am currently home for 6 weeks healing from a staph infection, but my heart cannot wait to be back-in 6 days I'm boarding a plane and returning back to where my heart belongs.  This time I'm taking my mama with me.  

It's definitely difficult having my heart in so many different places- Washington, Alabama and Uganda. But it so, so worth it. 

Like Jesus we belong to the world living not for ourselves but for others.  The joy of the Lord is our strength. ~Mother Teresa 

Some days it hits me hard.

147 million orphans.  

Everyday over 5,000 become orphaned.

Everyday over 38,000 age out- with no forever family.

95% of orphans are over the age of 5. 

44 million orphans in Africa and of those children 30% lost their parents to AIDS.

My heart is in Uganda.  At the size of Oregon, Uganda has 3 million orphans.  To put that into perspective, Uganda has almost as many orphans as Oregon has people.  

Jesus has a heart for the orphan.  

He took you in.  

He gave His life to call you His.  

"Orphan" appears in the bible approximately 30 times. 

I have said it before, and I will say it again. I'm tired of the sleeping church- the church that says:


We'll watch from behind the scenes.

We'll preach until we are blue in the face, but than we've done our part.

We'll quote statistic upon statistic.  

"God didn't mean "Go and make disciples to all nations..." for everyone literally to do that."

"God didn't mean we had to give up everything to follow Him."

"He doesn't mind if I sit here quietly in my comfort zone and place a check in the mail for a orphan I'll never meet."  

Jesus did mean it.  He wants you to leave the four walls of your church and follow Him.  

Follow Him to the hard. 

To the places of brokenness.  

Where orphans go hungry.

And cry themselves to sleep.

And age out without hope for the future. 

Where orphans overflow.

Where despair lives.

And defeat thrives.

And sorrow doesn't even try to hide. 

Where orphans grow into prostitutes and hand you their business cards.

And the cycle begins again.  

Jesus wants you there.

It's hard. 

I know that.

I some days wish God had given me the life where my biggest concern was whether I'd pass a college exam.

But instead I feel the weight of 147 million orphans crying out. 

Orphans who may turn into prostitutes, thieves, and murderers.

Orphans who may commit suicide. 

Orphans who've never been told they are beautiful, treasured and loved.  

Christ doesn't just want you to take your bible to church, to listen and forget.

He wants you to hear Him.

"Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction.."

30 times is orphan used in the bible.


Jesus wants you to whisper to them "You are beautiful, treasured and forever loved...you always have been and you always will be."

147 million orphans long to hear this.

3 months ago today I landed in Uganda.  

I cannot believe it.  I only have 3 months left.  It's crazy.

So far, I helped in the big move to the new location, I have conquered a staph infection, said goodbye to 3 children who were reunited, welcomed 6 new babies to Amani,  taught preschool and continue to teach preschool, gotten to know over 50 beautiful children and watch as some slowly come out of their shells, and the babies who weren't crawling are now all over the place now, watched my babies Isaiah and Sundae learn to walk, spent Christmas with some pretty incredible people, saw an incredible team come through and build and amazing new playground (with 15 swings) for our babies, and I have been so extremely blessed. 

 My God is an awesome God.  

Over 50 children who He promises to give a hope and a future- because they are His.  And we are His.  And I'm learning to trust Him in everything- even when it hurts.  These kids have stolen my heart, and I can't imagine getting on a plane and leaving them.  My heart breaks every time I think about it.  

I love Enoch's craziness.  

I love Frank's sweet kisses he insists on giving me.  

I love how Carol finally likes me, and calls me "auntie naananaana." 

I love Freddy's random little hugs.   

I love Simon's....Simon-ness. 

I love Jonah's eager to please and that sweet toothless smile.

I love Sundae's deep husky laugh and huge smile. 

I love wycliff's sweet hugs and "auntie, auntie..."s.

I love Moses' loud voice and silliness. 

I love Jeremiah's one-tooth grin.

I love Precious' infectious laughter.

I love Judah... because who couldn't??

And I do not want to leave.  I blame it on those dark eyes, and naptime hugs and kisses, and those sweet moments when the hardest child to break through to whispers that he loves you, and the sadness in the 5 year olds eyes as he asks you if you leave for 'merica "tomorrow" because he misheard a conversation.  I blame it on the giggles, and the small "auntie, auntie, how are yoooou?".  I blame it on the children- yes, I do.... 

But hey, I have 3 more months to soak it in.  God is sooo good.