Day Fifteen, April 29:

This morning we tagged along with Steve, Gina, and Wells of Hope as they met with the local police about a young man about seven or eight years old, who was offered for sale by a man who claims to be his father to a buyer who claimed he was going to use him for a ritual killing. I had heard such things still happen in the northern territories, but I never thought I would sit with, talk to, lay hands on, and pray for such a child in person. Since Wells of Hope focuses on the children of imprisoned men, and this boy's "father" will most certainly be imprisoned, the Gants and Francis Ssuubi, Director of Wells of Hope, responded to the call for help. Posting the need on Facebook, the organization found willing people to contribute to Willie's sponsorship.

While this dramatic story brings a rapid response of willingness, there remain forty-two (42) unsponsored children at the Wells of Hope Academy. In addition to this shortfall, the Academy is in need of desks for their teachers, 120 metal bunk beds, just as many wooden desk-benches, and latrine and septic improvements. There are other needs as well as hopes for more improvements in the future. This group is trusting God for support. I encourage any reading this who sense the Spirit's urging, to please investigate donation details at www.wellsofhope.org and help however you can.

As we sat in that dusty office, in the back of the local police holding yard, we greeted the accused child trafficker, and Wells of Hope communicated their desire to lend spiritual and emotional support during his incarceration. They also offered to care for, teach, and disciple Willie for as long as necessary. This was difficult, especially because the criminal investigators were present and often chimed in to interrogate the accused during the meeting. Knowing no other family but the man who betrayed him to his death, Willie cried when we took him away from that interview room. Taken from whatever he once knew, he had no way of knowing that he was being delivered to the safe, loving care of Wells of Hope and the love of Jesus Christ. It must have been a horrifyingly traumatic day for Willie, and it was a learning experience for all of us in attendance.

The police investigators were amazingly helpful, and patiently explained that there is no governmental provision for any such children. The line level police officers have often contributed to the welfare of such children out of their own meager salaries. We were told that the government relies solely on non-governmental organizations (NGOs) such as Wells of Hope, for temporary custody of such vulnerable or abandoned children. We were shown a converted intermodal cargo container, in which as many as eight children may be housed for a few days at a time, in the custody of the police, while a few more often sleep on the floor of the open police reception area. Mr. Ssuubi told us of a boy who was "defiled" (sexually abused) by an officer in that setting only a year ago. Clearly, there is a need for missionary work, children's homes, and foster care in Uganda. Perhaps there is a need for humanitarian reform at a governmental level, but I have learned that governmental change is difficult, slow, and inadequate in Uganda. The response of Christ's hands and feet must not be to clutch the purse and tap the foot while waiting for social change, but should be to speed, feed, and meet the need.

I still do not know exactly how Cindy and I will fit into this response, but the discarded children of Uganda are on our heart. In Masaka, we accompanied the Okoa Refuge missionaries as they received two week-old Emmanuel, and now Willie with Wells of Hope in Kampala. We were blessed to meet the AIDS afflicted cast-aways at the YES Manna House and watch as a Jinja community and the Acholi women of Gulu were assisted by Amazima ministries and Going in Love (respectively) in keeping their families whole, virtually preventing abandonment before it happens. My mind is still whirling with all the possibilities and the overwhelming need here in Uganda.

From the police station, Steve and Gina Gant took us to a supermarket that felt very much like one we might see at home, although the food items were decidedly different. Imagine being in an American supermarket completely filled with everything that usually occupies a tiny bit of shelf space on what you likely consider "the ethnic aisle" at your local store. From the deli, we got Samosas, triangular fritters filled with vegetables, rice, or meat. We washed them down with the first soda I have had in over a year, a Stoney Tangawizi, and accompanied them with some dried jackfruit and a taste of sim-sim sticks (made of a sesame-looking seed by the same name).

We ate our car picnic as we waited for a Facebook contact to show the Gants a 4-wheel drive Toyota van, and when it arrived it appeared like a possible solution to their need. We shall see. My mind wondered if a similar van would convert to an ambulance or mobile clinic. My brain is already shopping for a vehicle and noting real estate prices! I'm afraid the next seven years are going to be long.

When we arrived back at the Gant's home, we were treated to a jackfruit carving demonstration by David, the guard and all-around helper in the small community where the Gants live. Once he showed us how to separate and eat the fruit and avoid most of its tarry white sap, we had a jackfruit peeling and tasting party, and got very sticky in the process. A jackfruit looks like a tightly closed green pinecone about the size of a July watermelon, smells like a pineapple when it is first cut open, has a fleshy meat, and a tropical flavor like someone blended bananas with pineapple gummy bears.

Our party ended just as Anthony arrived to collect us and take us to the hotel near the airport, where we began our Ugandan circuit. We took the opportunity of having an extra pair of hands to get pictures together with the Gants and also with Anthony. I always hate saying goodbye, and this was no exception. Stephen and Gina Gant were gracious hosts and have become good friends already, as I have already written. Enough about that. I hate goodbyes!

Before we parted from our trusted driver and friend, Anthony, we took him out to eat at Faze-3, a restaurant popular with Bzungu (white people), but which he knew to serve goat, a dish I had not yet experienced. The vote is in: goat beats African beef! And it's pretty darn close to beating American beef too.

It was already beginning to get dark as we said goodbye to Anthony and hello to the friendly faces at the Sunset Entebbe Hotel. We knew Anthony had a long ride to Jinja through Kampala, on dark roads which we know he hates, but he delivered us to the end of our trip and I don't know how we would have survived such a journey without him. We have a day of rest before our plane leaves tomorrow night, so we plan to try to get some sleep since neither Cindy nor I sleep well on aircraft. Perhaps tomorrow we will venture back to the market or to Faze-3 in the hotel car, before making an early return to the airport.

Day Fourteen, April 28:

When I was a patrolman, civilians would often ride along with me to witness firsthand what police do. Today, I got to do a similar thing only with the shoe on the other foot. We spent the day with Steve and Gina Gant, who welcomed us to tag along with them as they attended a Wells of Hope devotion and staff meeting, then spent much of the day shopping for a van for the ministry. What an eye-opener seeing the ministry from the inside like that! Oh, and every missionary probably wishes they could watch someone else shop for a car before they are forced to learn from experience when they have to do it themselves.

Our lunch stop today was at a restaurant called "Daytona" so it was like we are near home. Okay not really. Great food though: roast pork, Matooke, and greens!

In the afternoon, we were met at the Good Africa Coffee shop (sort of Africa's version of Starbucks) with Mark "Boog" Ferrell, who did his best to sum up the ministry of 60 Feet in a brief meeting over coffee and orange juice. The ministry's website (www.sixtyfeet.org) explains their mission better than I could, but I will say that advocacy and support for incarcerated children is the thrust of this ministry, since many children are only incarcerated waiting for it to be convenient for authorities to release them.

It was nice to have Steve and Gina at the meeting with Boog. One neat thing that keeps happening is the more we talk about what I have seen and heard from other missionaries, the more I find that some coordination between them would answer many of their needs. This one has a metalworks shop while that one needs metal bunk beds. This one needs inexpensive travel accommodations while that one runs a hostel or guest house. This one needs someone to transport quilts to the US while that one needs something in their empty suitcases so they can pack zip-closure bags, children's toys, and other such coveted items back home with them. While we were sitting in that meeting, Cindy began to write on a piece of paper. As Steve began to speak of how nice it would be to have a conference to join the interests and resources of Ugandan missionaries, the thought struck Cindy vocal, as she revealed what she had been scribbling: a Uganda Missionary Conference, which we all thought would be a good idea.

Our meeting with Boog was brief on account of the van hunting appointments, so we exchanged contact cards and invited one another to stay in touch.

After our van hunt proved unfruitful but successful, in that the ministry did not jump at the first four-wheel drive van that came along, we headed home. While the girls started dinner, Steve accompanied me on a walk down the busy road to a produce market about a kilometer away. While we talked we considered the possibility of me running an ambulance, and visiting the Wells of Hope Academy on certain planned days to man a clinic and perhaps take a mobile clinic to the villages when their family tracing efforts uncover a need for it. It is a possibility. I still don't know where or how God will have me serve here. We returned home a little after dark (which is a no-no) with avocado, mango, banana, pineapple, onions and tomato, to share with our hosts. Gina made a delightful beef with broccoli dish which she served over rice, accompanied by several fruits we brought from the market.

After Steve and I finished the dishes and comparing music preferences and collections, the four of us hung out and goofed around on our electronic gadgets, sharing interesting bits as we crossed them until bedtime. I'm certain these folks are family and not only new friends!

Day Thirteen, April 27:

Steve and Gina Gant prepared our breakfast and graciously explained the ministry of Wells of Hope (www.WellsOfHope.org). They take the true religion of James 1:27, tending to the needs of the orphans and widows, and combine it with visiting the imprisoned and meeting the needs of the needy which Jesus commended in Matthew 25:36.

James 1:27 NIV
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

Matthew 25:36 NIV
I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

Wells of Hope, and therefore Gant Ministries, visits men in prison, encouraging them, discipling them, and caring for them. One of their greatest needs is for someone to check on and care for their families. Wells of Hope does that. They go out and find the families, bring back photos, reunite children who have sometimes been told their fathers have been executed or died in prison, and they work to ensure the fathers have a place in the lives of their families, even if a small one. Furthermore, Wells of Hope operates a school and home for the children of these prisoners, who often have no one else to care for them. This is called the Wells of Hope Academy, where we attended church service today.

We drove for about an hour and a half to get to the Academy, the last few kilometers of which was through a swamp which overwhelmed the roadway in several places. The swampy landscape is what Steve credited for the affordability of the land on which the Academy is situated.

When we pulled up to the complex, we found two large white buildings: a dormitory and a school, with one large thatched-roof shelter in between them. Under the shade of that shelter on a concrete slab were about forty-five of the most precious little worshippers I've ever seen, singing, clapping, and dancing in the name of Jesus. One of their teachers preached, but then a few of the children preached too, and did an excellent job! Ella, a volunteer who is a children's music teacher by profession, led worship, and the children really worshipped the Lord like I have never seen kids of that age do. They weren't just singing, but each one was praying and loving God in an individual way. It was fantastic!

When church was over Steve and Gina took us on a tour of the facility. The dormitories were nicely constructed and adequately furnished, but with wooden furniture, and the state instructed them to replace the wood bunks with metal. The classrooms of the school were empty because the kids dragged all the combination bench-desk pieces of furniture out to the church shelter for prayer meeting and would carry them all back in when it was over. They could use some benches just for the meeting shelter.

We saw how the ministry works with what it has and is seeking to make it better. Steve talked about future plans for upgrading facilities, improving land for productive purposes like farming, and working to include the children in keeping their campus nice. We saw the chicken house, the piggery, the only cow, and we walked to the nearest borehole well, where all the kids have to go to fetch their personal bathing water. They carry it in Gerry-cans, big plastic canisters reminiscent of the fuel cans used by the Germans in World War 2 (thus the name), and have it poured over themselves as there is no running water in much of Uganda. Being among these children and worshipping in such simple purity was refreshing, and seeing how Wells of Hope is caring for the children of the imprisoned was inspiring. Being with the Gants was a lot of fun too. Steve and I are two peas in a pod!

We kept the Gants up again, this time Steve and I swapped war-stories from his Navy experience and my police career. We must have bored the girls, because we found ourselves alone laughing at each other's anecdotes. We are having a great time!