I saw a documentary last night titled “Invisible Children.” It was made by three grad students from U Cal San Diego who went to Africa to make a student film about refugee camps in Uganda, where displaced Sudanese live away from their civil war. Uganda has its own civil war, and the rebels, the LRA, snatch boys 5-14 years old - 50,000 of them so far - to fight their battles. Boys in this age range are big enough to carry a rifle, but not big enough to challenge a grown man.
When they take children they first kill a few, and then torture a few in order to scare the others and desensitize them to killing. Then they train them to kill. Then they give them each a kalishnikov, and a daily quota of government dead they must deliver to the LRA. Although members of the Ugandan parliament and many Christian relief agencies have tried to get Western governments to intervene in some way, these children remain “invisible” to their own government, and to ours.
There were these two brothers in the film who had escaped, but not before the LRA had killed their eldest brother. They had both been tortured, and had both killed. Neither was yet 14. These children never cry – they lose the capacity to. Yet, when asked to remember their brother, both sobbed uncontrollably. They prayed to be reunited with him in heaven.
One of my little tricks, when things get hectic, is to think about how long they will be so, and then to tell myself: “If I can just make it to Thursday….” Of course, Thursday comes and things have quickened, not slackened, so I say: “If I can just make it till Monday.” This never really works, because things don’t let up. Right now I’m telling myself: “If I can just make it till June, 2014.”Rereading that first paragraph I realize I’ve just sliced off about two pounds of variety-meat bologna, with self-pity, self importance, self centeredness, self,self,self being the main ingredients (along with hooves, lips, and tripe).
I saw a documentary last night titled “Invisible Children.” It was made by three grad students from U Cal San Diego who went to Africa to make a student film about refugee camps in Uganda, where displaced Sudanese live away from their civil war. Uganda has its own civil war, and the rebels, the LRA, snatch boys 5-14 years old - 50,000 of them so far - to fight their battles. Boys in this age range are big enough to carry a rifle, but not big enough to challenge a grown man. When they take children they first kill a few, and then torture a few in order to scare the others and desensitize them to killing. Then they train them to kill. Then they give them each a kalishnikov, and a daily quota of government dead they must deliver to the LRA. Although members of the Ugandan parliament and many Christian relief agencies have tried to get Western governments to intervene in some way, these children remain “invisible” to their own government, and to ours.
There were these two brothers in the film who had escaped, but not before the LRA had killed their eldest brother. They had both been tortured, and had both killed. Neither was yet 14. These children never cry – they lose the capacity to. Yet, when asked to remember their brother, both sobbed uncontrollably. They prayed to be reunited with him in heaven.
Their prayer made me almost feel like I had nothing to pray about – unless it is to pray for them, and children like them in Africa, Southeast Asia, and Central America. Like Rick Blaine says, “The problems of two people don’t count for a hill of beans in this crazy world.” How much less significance then do the problems of one person have? What are FAFSA forms, scheduling conflicts, and empty nests compared to the snatching of children in Uganda?
Yet Jesus encourages us to pray for our daily needs (Matthew 6.9-13). God wants to know my needs as well as theirs – knows them before I mention them (Matthew 6.8). Those children in Uganda are not invisible to God, and neither am I. Any parent understands that. Maybe one kid has an arm in a sling, or needs a breathing treatment every hour. The others still need to be fed, and taken to school on time. Caring for one doesn’t need to mean you neglect the others.
If you, being evil, know haw to give good gifts to your children, how much more will you Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask him? Matthew 7.11
Are not two sparrows sold for a cent, and yet not one falls to the ground without your father knowing it. Don’t be afraid, you are worth more than many sparrows. Matthew 10.29,31
Not a sparrow falls to the ground without Him knowing it. He is infinite. His vision is infinite. His love is infinite. The children of Uganda, in their deep and voiceless suffering are not invisible. Neither am I in my hectic prosperity. Such invisibility is impossible.
