The "Right" Decision

When you discover, that just as an iceberg, only the tip on the looming mountain of need is visible,
You begin to find comfort in the uncomfortable,
Stories of families, while still heart breaking, no longer shock you,

As ‘Mzungus’, we represent hope,
There are those whose hope is fading, we represent a glimmer,

It's the story of a young girl,
Her family attacked during the civil war,
Left for dead amoung her silent brothers, sisters and parents in their hut,
Of the 8, 3 survive, bearing the scars of the machete across their faces, necks and wrists.

Yet this young girl grows,
Is happily married, has children of her own,
And while she loses her husband to the lake, she persists, for the sake of her children,

Yet those scars are like a curse, slowly sucking the life from her body,

At word of mzungus, she packs her bag, and her children,
With three little ones in two she makes the daunting journey,
Along road beyond disrepair, through bouts of malaria,
To the church where Mzungus come,

She has heard about our childrens homes,
She's been told we will help,
We will provide for her children, we will give her children an education, a chance,

It's worth the journey,

She arrives to find she's early, the mzungus have not yet arrived,
She's told that the inn is full, there is no more room in our homes,

Yet she clings to the chance to talk to the mzungus,
She's sure that they will have an different answer,
If they just knew her story,

And they do, they arrive,
At church she demonstrates her grasp of the Word,
She helps around the property, clearing land with her one good hand,
How could they deny her?

She waits two weeks to gain the courage to talk to them,
Even then, she paces outside for some time before they notice her,
Too shy, too nervous to knock,

Now she allows the thoughts and the words of the others to creep into her head,
What if they say no?

She enters, not knowing even the words,
She doesn't speak English, how will they understand her.

As if on cue the pastor comes,
But it is not as she hoped,

Her mind clouds,

He knows of her plan, he has come to stop her...

She slips away,
She can't bear it,

Later the mzungu finds her, sitting in the church,
He's with the pastor but,
This is it, he has come to set things straight,
He has come to listen,

He says he feels there was something she wanted to say,
And so the mzungu listens as she tells her story,
As she pleads for him to provide a place for her children,

And as he listens, his heart breaks,

How could anyone say no?
They would have to be heartless,
They would have to be ignorant,
They would have to be this mzungu,

He tries to explain that her children need the love of their mother right now,
He tries to tell her that God is revealing Himself to them through her devotion to them,
He tries to show her the love of the congregation, that they will cover her in prayer,
He tries to comfort her and tell her that God is good, and that He will watch over her and her children,

He knows its true, but it feels like tripe,
She knows its true, but her heart aches,

He has offered to drive her home, to provide some food provisions and to talk to her pastor and community,

The long drive is a silent one, he doesn't feel any better about his decision even though he knows it's the right one,
Upon reaching the home and finding her crippled mother in the field, trying to pick through the forest of weeds, to save her crops,

The community has made a plan,
And the hands and feet of Christ will be put to use,
but still,

How could anyone drive away from this?
And while she musters up a smile and waves as they drive off in a cloud of dust,
He sits behind the wheel, heavy with doubt...

Grace, Peace and Blessings,
Mzungu

It Makes The World Go Round...

Money is an amazing thing,
It holds such a power over us,
It dilutes our understandings of life, love and what truly matters,

When it does not put us out, we are generous to share,
But God forbid we should face financial instability,

As the world begins to count its pennies, people are dying,
As we begin to make 'cut-backs' in "OUR" lives, millions suffer

Uganda is a beautiful country,
And while it is a country that is striving, it is still very dependent,
But there is hope,

On the drive to Kampala today I noticed the sign for a school,
Each school here has it's own motto and this one caught my eye,

"Knowledge-Our Hope"...if only you knew,
That the price of that cup of coffee could pay your school fees,
That filling up my gas tank could cover the cost of HIV treatments,
That my "tiny" room back home in Canada, is bigger than your house for 8,

You wouldn't think of me as a saint little one...

Forgive us...
We forget, we don't realize,

As we think twice about our monthly pledge, that this is our life, and the lives of so many,

They are more than programs we sponsor,
They have life altering ramifications,

And while the buildings will stand, bricks and mortar paid for,
The lives of the children inside will forever change,

What is love without good deeds?
What are good deeds without love?

We were called to look after the widow and the orphan,
How can we deny this?

Grace, Peace and Blessings,
Brent

The Pearl Of Africa

2 flights, 3 airports, 2 thunderstorms and 52 bright smiling faces later ...

This is beauty,
Lush green hills contrasted by the bright red soil,
The landscape of Uganda alone is breath-taking,
Combined with the smiles on the faces of the people here and little compares,

Landing here is always a breath of fresh air,
Always full of adventure and each time I am greeted by smiling faces of 52 beautiful children,

The smiles, the hugs, the shouts of “Uncle Brent”,
These are the things that make Uganda feel like home,

The kids have grown,
Their personalities are shaping, and they are growing bolder,
My longer hair is now cause for laughs amongst the children,
Which in turn, leads to a game of ‘run and hide from uncle Brent’,

There is always something to do here,
And the days move at a pace which allows it all to be finished,
They don’t drag, it’s quite nice,

There is always time for people,
For fellowship and laughs,
For football,

There is a lot of football,

I’m here,
And I’m bringing greetings on your behalf,,
The church sends their greetings back,

Grace, Peace and Blessings,
Brent

Another Chapter Closes

A day of saying good-byes,
They are getting easier, and I’m not convinced that’s good thing,

There’s something about not knowing if or when you’ll ever see someone again that make good-byes so crucial,

The Sudanese, my class and fellow footballers, facing the decision of going back to Sudan or continuing to endure in Egypt,

The Ex-pats, a group of people representing all corners of the globe and who never settle for long,

And finally my Egyptian friends, representing all walks of life,

So many people and here I sit clinging to a toilet bowl, praying to God that my stomach settles enough to venture out in the 45 degree heat,

There’s nothing flattering about this, of everyone I had planned to say good bye to, of everyone I was making an effort to see, becoming this intimate with the porcelain was not on my agenda,

Though it does provide an excellent chance to think of better times…but let’s be honest with ourselves, anything in Egypt is better than this

The phone rings, and plans are made, I will not be held hostage by this tile floor any longer,

Once in a taxi, sitting in the sea of Cairo traffic, my plans are immediately brought to question, but through perseverance, I pull up to my favorite place, the Khan,

What would a final day in Egypt be without the Khan, and the friends who work here,

Handshakes, hugs and farewells…and then more plans,

What would a final day in Egypt be without a midnight horseback ride by the pyramids,

My friends here at the Khan have been looking for an excuse to try such a thing, and it seems that my departure is an apt reason,

And so as the sun sets over Cairo, I pray to God that my stomach can bear the feat,

Stars, sand, a rouge horse, a few tumbles and 9 pyramids later, and again we say goodbye,

All nighters…Cairo truly never sleeps and neither will I tonight,

Tomorrow I’m Uganda bound,
And I couldn’t be happier,

Grace Peace and Blessings,
Brent

The Elephant In The Room

Sitting in the darkness of the narrow alleyways, Egyptian life flies by,
Motorbikes pass close enough to our feet to make our toes curl, at times bring a hault to the conversation,
The smell of fresh baking floats in the air, almost strong enough to cover the stench of the mounds of garbage rotting in the heat of this Cairo night,

My experiences and my friends have brought me back to this dingy little "cafe"
Now sitting, probing the depths of Islam and Christianity, mankind and our behaviors, with an elephant of a man.
The conversation is risky, but too important to pass up,

I've brought a friend this time,
He's eager to experience "real" Egypt,
He's getting it,
And now, the three of us work to break down the misrepresentations, the cultural boundaries, between us,
If only the UN was this effective

The topic of relationships comes fourth and the elephant (a term of endearment), proceeds to ask of if we would every marry an Egyptian woman,
"Well if we loved her," it's only a start to our explanation, but already he's floored,
Marry for love eh?

I love making waves...I'm getting good at it.

"What if she was a Muslim?"
We venture the topic of being unequally yoked, trying to stress the point to the rather large Egyptian man, that we do not see Muslims as weaker...

I love watching a light flicker in the eyes of someone wrestling with something great,

Conversation is interrupted now and then for a tea break, or to shake hands,
We take these opportunities to take it all in, the people, the place, and sometimes rather unfortunately, the smells

"There is something different about you two," the elephant says,
"Not many people would come here, and less people would come back, what is it about you two?"

Boom, I've never had such a cliche opening,
But we jump on it,

"But that's not what makes you different, I've met lots of Christians, they aren't friendly, they don't talk to us, "
Others nod in agreement,

The sad reality dawns on us,
The walls are high, and the walls are thick,

They are both higher and thicker than they should be because, we Christians have added the brick and mortar,
Everytime we step outside the doors, our actions, our mannerisms are watched,
Whether intentionally or not, we define Christianity to those who know only the inside of a mosque,

Suddenly, the old "living-Christ-like" saying takes on a very personal twist,
These are friends,

It’s time we live out of love.

Grace, Peace and Blessings,
Brent

Knowing Where To Look...

Walk down the right back alley in Cairo, and you can find anything.

It's just knowing where to look...


My week here in Egypt has taken on quite different feel than times past,
And while going into this trip I expected some needed healing, as well as a chance to dive into the refugee community again,
The latter has been very true,
Old friendships have been rekindled as I've spent every day with the students and teachers of 'Found',

However, the healing surprised me.
Cairo was a place in which I invested a lot of my life,
Some of my most profound growing experiences, both spiritual and emotional, took place here,

It is also a place where I dated and later, before my leaving, became engaged.

Months after leaving Cairo, for various reasons, I called the engagement off,
Which in turn lead to a period of both very emotionally and spiritually conflict,

Since then,
Through the wisdom and care of friends and family,
The grace of God,
and very little of my own input,

I feel I have never been stronger,

All that said, I thought coming back to Cairo would bring a flood of memories,
That perhaps, visiting and spending time here, would give me some sense of healing that I may have been missing.

I was wrong,

Wrong in the sense that, God had already allowed the wounds to fully heal,
Instead, He had something else in store for me,

Enter the Khan el-Khalili,
The open air market in the heart of Islamic Cairo,
A place of narrow alleyways, jammed with everything a tourist could ever need,

Pushy sales men, with lines like "I have what you're looking for," and "How can I take your money?!"
Stores entirely devoted to scarfs, shisha pipes, and statuettes,
Partnered with the shoulder to shoulder experience of it all,

Wide eyed tourists are often lead astray, paying upwards of ten times the Egyptian price,

Bartering skills are key, and a little Arabic will get you far,

This is the Devils playground,
This is my favorite place in all of Cairo,
Is that wrong?

One could say my self indulgent side in conjunction with my quest for the seemingly elusive Egyptian healing brought me back here,
I prefer to say God did,

Upon snaking my way through the familiar alleyways, I ducked out of the crowded streets and into one of my favorite stores,
Instantly the shop keeper remembered me and greeted me with a hug,
We went back and forth, sharing forgotten memories and recent ramblings,

Apparently buisness has been less than booming for him,
The sheer number of tourists has dropped astronomically since the recent bombing here,

The violent and isolated act of a single person has had a devastating affect on so many,

As the hours ticked on, I had only one item left to find, and my trusted friend told me just where to find it,
So onward we marched through the narrow alleyways, twisting and turning out of the shopping area,
And as I followed him into the depths of Egypt, I tried to memorize the way out,

"No tourist ever comes here, too far, too hard to find,"

I began to think of those words as I walked past the poverty which ensued,

Apartment buildings which appeared to have been standing since the creation,
Children and cats, together sifting through piles of garbage,
The broken and the weary line these narrow streets,

Perhaps no tourists come because it is hard to find,
but would they come if they knew where it was?

This is not the Cairo that is published in travel magazines,
It is far from the fancy hotels, no tourist bus will fit down these street and there is no view of the pyramids here,

We stopped for tea and shisha along the way,
A tiny alcove with an old, wood framed awning,
Weathered chairs and rusty tables,
The green glow of the minaret from mosque across the alley,

As we passed the pipe, the deafening call from the minaret bounced echoed through the narrow streets,
And I excused my Muslim friend as we went to pray,

As I sat alone, I thought of how I ended up here, tracing the last few months and thinking of the privilege it has been,

My friend returned, and sitting as cockroaches fell from the rotting fabric above, we spoke of family, the power of money, the corruption of government and the influence of religion,

He spoke of how we were like brothers in faith,
And I spoke about the vast differences,

The opportunity to talk so freely here is one that should be coveted,
And as I spoken of things unknown, of Salvation assured, I prayed that seeds may be planted,
Tiny seeds perhaps but with God as the gardener...

We continued on through the streets,
His familys house,
His brothers shops,
Greeting childhood friends,
This is his neighbourhood, and I am welcome anytime,

On the cab ride home, I reflect on the journey that has brought me here, and while it is for a short while, I plan to invest,

I can't quite figure out what the draw to Cairo is, but it's nights like these that help define it,

Grace, Peace and Blessings,
Brent

Found Refuge

In a small, freshly painted office
I sit at a big wooden desk with a bowl of traditional Sudanese lentils in front of me,
There a few food that I hesitate with now, but the sheer appearance of these mashed lentils conjures the contents of my stomach to the brink,

It's rude to refuse food here, and though I've already eaten, the cook stands in anticipation waiting for me to take to first bite,

It took some time, but I found 'Found'.
The Sudanese refugee school has proven elusive this time around, and while I spent most of my time working within it's walls last year, it seemingly disappeared.

Egyptians authorities closed the doors to the makeshift refugee school,
While the sound of the street along side the ground floor apartment can be deafening, apparently the sounds of the children within the walls were cause for complaint,

Such is the life of a refugee in Egypt.

Denied access to public schooling,
Withheld accreditation by the government,
Mocked in the streets,

However, God is good in-spite of the chaos,
And 'Found African Childrens Learn Center' was able to reopen it's doors in a new and improved building,

Education is the basis of development,
Providing these children with a basic education, certified and accredited or not, is a necessary and fundamental step in stemming the hardships that Sudan has faced,

Through a better understanding of the world, science and cultures, partnered with a education based in love, tolerance and Biblical Truths, a new generation of leaders being molded.

And while changed in an already established entity is never easy,
It is no excuse for a lack of trying, especially when change can bring prosperity.

It starts with these children,

'Young Men Alive' is a study I facilitated here in 'Found' during my time here in Cairo,
A chance for prospectives to collide, and understandings to be reached.
A place where these young men, are presented topics, which are otherwise discreet, and given the opportunity to mull them over in a safe environment,

A study which earned me the nickname "Young Man" with the guys,

When I rang the bell for the bell of 'Found' for the first time this year,
The door opened and I was greeted by the hugs, playful punches and calls of "Young Man",
It was like coming home.

I had spoken to the head master here, a dear friend of mine, in advance, to be sure my arriving would not be interrupting,
The response I received has been the most warm since my return to Cairo,
"You are most welcome. You were a part of us"

A community, which has been so devastated by civil war, famine and racism,
A community which has every right to be hard and jaded,
Yet this is a community, were love abounds from,

This is where I will continue to spend my time here in Cairo,
Teaching Bible once a day, and investing in friendships,
Friendships that despite a year apart, continue off where we left off.

Cairo never seizes to amaze me,
And while I continue to take risks and step out,
God rewards.

Not many things are as they appear here,
And for the record, a bowl full of Sudanese are actually quite tasty.

Grace, Peace and Blessings,
Brent