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?