Joy in His presence!

Yesterday was a crummy day! It was a day where everything I tried to do or accomplish failed, and I felt bad, and defeated, and just felt like doing nothing... retreating to bed where I could hide and forget the day altogether! I'm sure you all can relate, cause everyone has had those days before, where it seems like the sun just won't come out for you, and you're seeing everything through gloomy lenses, no matter how hard you try to change that!

Well, I soon realized that I was doing just that...I was trying to change that! Just me and my own little power and strength. "Come on Emily, shake it off, get up! Get better! Get moving! I was trying to motivate myself like I've always done before and give myself pep talks to be better! Do better! Only one thing...it wasn't working!

So in defeat, I went to bed, still trying to get over everything by my determination and great stubbornness. :) But the morning came, and so did God's amazing grace! Today, I was absolutely flooded with His goodness all around me, and reminded of His faithfulness, and that I am the apple of His eye! (even when I don't feel like it!)

He showed me a beautiful verse, that I haven't read in a long while....Psalm 16:11...

"You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand."

JOY in His presence...what an amazing thought! Eternal pleasures! And today, I experienced those eternal pleasures of walking in His joyful presence again! I was vulnerable and felt the power of prayer of close friends. I took a walk and smelled the red clay dirt, and the smell of rain! I walked in His presence today again, literally! :) We walked and talked. I was FULL of Him. He showed me sooo many eternal pleasures today through old friends and new friends, and drinking Sprite with Beatrice and her sweet family. :) Hugs from sweet toddlers, and shouts of Ms. Griggs, I love you! :) The clouds were puffy and so bright today, shadowing the green lush hills. The sunset was a gorgeous pink and orange, with a hint of deep purple. The moon shone bright, and the stars were sparkling like double time tonight! Everything I saw today was a gift from God! Pleasures evermore! Kelly had a moto accident, but she was ok, after Dr. Miller stitched up her pinky toe. Sitting and laughing and telling stories with her on our front porch, to help keep her mind off the pain, was a joy. I saw so many smiles today, and gave many too. It was really just an ordinary day. But no day is ordinary when you experience the day through the eyes of Jesus, and know that everything is a gift! Big, small, it makes no difference! We are alive and He created this day for us, the apple of His eye. :) I left it all behind, and took a walk with Him, and now I am filled FULL with His pleasures evermore, and ready to face tomorrow with Him. (not just me!) :) Thanks for letting me be really honest tonight. I need to! I hope you enjoy the rest of this day that He made just for you! :) Rejoice and be glad in it!

"And all who thirst will thirst no more,
And all who search will find what their souls long for,
The world will try, but it can never fill,
So leave it all behind, and come to the well."

Casting Crowns, The Well

steeped with God

"I am often asked if I am not lonely on my solitary excursions. It seems so self-evident that one cannot be lonesome where everything is wild and beautiful and busy, and steeped with God." ~John Muir

When you live in God...

"When you live in God, your day begins when you open your eyes, though you have done nothing yourself to open them, and you take your first breath, though there is no reason

why this life-giving breeze should be given to you and not to some other. In the dark or

in the light, with a stone slab under your back, or a feather topper, your day begins

when you let God hold you because you do not have the slightest idea how to hold

yourself--when you let God raise you up, when you consent to rest to show you get the

point, since that is the last thing you would do if you were running the show yourself.

When you live in God, your day begins when you lose yourself long enough for God to find

you, and when God finds you, to lose yourself again in praise."

~Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World

Mensier's Story

* This is a lengthy account of one of my friend's story of survival in 1994. It's long, but I encourage you to read until the end. *

I want to share with you the story of my good friend, Mensier. Mensier hangs out at our house frequently during the week and weekends, watching movies, fixing things, and learning and sharing with his mentor, Janelle, who is my roommate. Mensier was one of Janelle's choir boys in the African Children's Choir a decade ago. (Mensier is camera shy) :)

Last week, Mensier was gracious enough to accompany and welcome me to the villages of Nyamata and Ntarama, two tiny villages a mile apart where his mother and other siblings live. We took Janelle's motorcycle, and headed out of the city. The small Catholic churches at Nyamata and Ntarama are now vivid memorial sites of what took place in 1994 in our country.

For Rwandans, April is an extremely reflective and somber month. It's a month to remember the genocide of the Tutsis and moderate Hutus in 1994. A month to pray, to visit the sites of the tragedies and the graves, and a month to continue reconciling, forgiving, and healing.

Mensier was 7 years old in 1994. His father was a pastor in Butare, a town two hours south of Kigali, and his mother was a mom to Mensier and his two younger siblings. An older brother was away at secondary school in Kigali. They lived a good life. They had enough money to meet their needs, and they felt very blessed.

Late in 1993, when many Rwandans began to feel the tides changing in their country, as they were being persecuted for no apparent reason, Mensier's mom had a vision. A vision that fire was overtaking them, but that God was with them in the fire and would see them through. His mom is one of the most courageous women of faith that I know! She reminds me of my own Grandma.

But after that vision, the family still stayed in their village outside of Butare. On the night of April 7, 1994, when the former President's plane was shot out of the sky, his mom remembered her vision. She tried to send word to the older brother that the family was going to leave and flee into Congo, and that he should come with them. Mensier's dad was away too, preaching in another area of Rwanda. It had been too late. Later they would discover that Meniser's brother had been killed with a machete and beheaded by the Hutu militia. They would also discover that Mensier's father and been beaten, hacked with a machete and burned in the house where he had been staying. The fire was upon them.

Mensier's mother soon realized that she couldn't wait another day. She had to hurry and try to leave with Mensier, his 5 year old sister, and the baby brother on her back. She had wanted to wait for the father and brother, but when the militia came to their village one day just to scare the villagers and said they'd be back to kill, she knew she had to flee right then. That night, before they could leave, the Hutu militia came for them. They found Mensier's mother, and the three children hiding under a bed. After the children watched the militia beat his mother, an auntie came running to them and pleaded with the killers to let them all go. To everyone's surprise, the militia left and their lives were spared for that moment. The killers had recognized the aunt, and knew that she was married to a top official in the region. The auntie had lied and told the killers that Meniser and his sister were her children instead. They believed her.

So that night, in the dark of night, they all began their journey to the border of Congo. Meniser was walking and holding hands with his 5 year old sister, and their baby brother was on his mom's back. They walked for many nights, hiding during the days under bushes and in pit latrines. They walked 140 kilometers (90 miles), the distance from Butare to Cyangugu, on the Congolese border. When they arrived...shoeless, exhausted, and famished, they found the border absolutely packed with Rwandans trying to escape across. Everyone was hungry, shoving, despserate. The border officials weren't letting anyone else cross over. Mensier's mom tried to bribe one of them with the last bit of francs she had left, but nothing worked. Many old dugout wooden canoes were making their way across Lake Kivu into Congo territory. Meniser's mom grabbed and hugged both of them and told them to make a run for it and get on one of those canoes. She would stay behind with the baby and they would all reunite later. She hugged and kissed them, and they both ran to the water. Mensier threw his sister in a canoe and jumped in. There was no room to sit, so they both laid down on the bottom, underneath the feet of everyone else. Many boats were too heavy with passengers, and capsized in the lake. Mensier remembers praying with his sister that their boat would make it across, and thanking God they made it this far. He remembers that moment with his mom, not knowing if he'd ever see her again. But he was determined to protect his younger sister. They made their way across the lake, and when the sun rose, they were in Congo. But their journey was far from over.

In the Congolese refugee camp, Mensier and his sister both came down with cholera, and there was a time where Mensier remembers he woke up and asked himself, Am I dead? Am I alive or dead? He was too sick at one point, that he doesn't remember reality. By the grace of God, after thousands died in the camps, God's hand was on Meniser and his sister, and they both began to slowly recover. When they were a bit stronger, a man befriended them and offered to take them back into Rwanda in the summer to help find their mother.

Since April, after the 100 days, President Paul Kagame and his RPF troops had made their way into Kigal and regained the city. The worst of the genocide was over. It was still many more months before Mensier and his sister were reunited with his mom and baby brother, who had managed to stay alive after hiding in a neighbor's shed.

Knowing Mensier and his mom and sister today, one would never guess the amount of tragedy they have faced and lived through. They are cheerful, happy, thankful believers, and spend their days encouraging others and shining their lights. God has given them an unspeakable testimony, and story to share with others, so that others can know hope and the strength that comes from our Lord. Listening to Mensier's story over a hamburger at Mr. Chips last week, I was numb. I was hanging on to every word, trying to listen and learn, and to understand. I still don't understand how something like the genocide could have taken place in this beautiful country I call home. I still cannot try and comprehend how people can be so brainwashed by evil that they kill in those horrific ways. It doesn't make sense to me.

And the faith and light that shines so strong in Mensier and his family today, would never make sense, either, except for knowing and understanding the True source of strength and light in our world. He is the Truth! The light that shines in the darkness, and no darkness will ever overcome Him! The One who is in Mensier and his mom is greater than the one who is in the world.

Today Mensier provides financially for his mom and siblings. He has started a training program and school near Nyamata village, and he hopes to one day go to university to train in business. Mensier's mom cares for 2 young boys in the village who have no family to care for them. Their family is beautiful; a true reflection of Christ here on earth.

Many Rwandans fled to churches during the genocide, thinking they would be safe. Thousands died in churches all over the country. In Ntarama, 45,000 were killed in the church or on the church grounds. Today this church is a memorial. It was left as it was after the genocide. The clothes and bloodied belongings still lay all over the wooden pews. The holes in the wall are from the grenade blasts to enter the church. The bones and skulls are neatly piled in a makeshift tomb in the basement. There are still bloodstains on the walls of the Sunday School room and on the altar. I waited 3 years to visit this memorial, initially thinking I never wanted to. I'm glad I did now, as I feel it's so important to see, not just hear, but see and know, and to grieve alongside my Rwandan friends this month.

Arise!

“Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you.

See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the LORD rises

 upon you and his glory appears over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to

the brightness of your dawn.” - Isaiah 60:1-3

Palm Sunday at Christ's Church, Rwanda

So I know this blog is out of order, and a week too late, but I still wanted to share! :)

I absolutely love Palm Sunday services in Rwanda. Our church is always adorned inside and out with palm leaves and branches, and banana stalks, and all kinds of other branches. Our pastor sent out a text to everyone last Sunday morning reminding us to go outside and cut down the banana stalks and palm branches and haul them into church. :) I love it! The huge banana stalks were propped up against the outside of the church (sorry I don't have a picture of those!), and the other leaves decorated the inside and were given to us to praise with and remind us of the joyful entrance of our Lord!

Rwanda is something else

I found this article on the front page of CNN.com this morning, and I wanted to share it with all of you. I hope it helps you understand the events of 1994, and the hope Rwanda has now!

Blessings,
Emily

Editor's note: Suzanne Malveaux anchors the noon to 2 p.m. edition of CNN Newsroom and has worked as a CNN White House correspondent for nearly a decade.

(CNN) -- The people in Rwanda do not want the world to forget what happened there 18 years ago. They certainly haven't.

This week, Rwandans mark the 18th anniversary of the April 6, 1994, genocide that took place in their country. For many, this is a somber but very necessary exercise, and many will visit sites where their families and friends were killed.

But on a recent visit there, I took away that although people want to remember what happened, they also want to show the world how they have moved on.

It was 14 years ago when I last visited Rwanda. I was covering President Bill Clinton as a White House correspondent when Air Force One touched down March 26, 1998. I remember thinking how absolutely beautiful and lush the countryside was flying in. It was hard to believe this was the same place where such atrocities occurred.

We stayed on the tarmac for three hours because the Secret Service deemed it was too dangerous for the president to leave the airport. During our short stay in 1998, Clinton apologized on behalf of the American people to the Rwandans for not doing enough to stop the 1994 genocide. During that period, Rwanda's Hutu majority targeted and slaughtered the Tutsi minority and Hutu moderates, killing 800,000 people in 100 days.

Rwandan genocide orphan builds new life

Rwandan reconciliation village

Film tells story of Rwandan genocide

After his speech was over, I interviewed a genocide survivor.

She was a young woman who had been gang raped and carried scars across her head from a huge machete. We sat across from each other in metal folding chairs in the airport hanger. I asked her the only thing that was on my mind: "What gives you the strength to go on?" And she responded "faith."

Fourteen years later to the day, I would be invited to participate in a service project that would bring me back to Rwanda.

Last week, I traveled with a small group of female journalists. We were asked to help teach young Rwandan women how to tell their own stories through journalism. They call it "the girl effect" -- investing in young women early in their lives so that it will pay off later in curbing poverty, disease and despair. In Rwanda, the concept is "ni nyampinga." In their local language, it means striving to be a beautiful woman inside and out.

One of those women I met was 23-year-old Didacienne "Dida" Nibagwire. She is a young actress who has been in a number of films and TV shows in Rwanda. Kids go crazy seeing her on the street because they recognize her from a series she did on children's rights. As in the U.S., making a living as an actor is tough, so she does electronics repair and translations on the side. Like many Rwandans, she speaks at least three languages -- Kinyarwanda, English and French.

Dida is part of the new generation of Rwandans that has hope and the opportunities to pursue their dreams. When I first met her, she smiled easily and exuded a kind of calm that felt maternal. But Dida's path to this point has been difficult, and she was very open about her struggle.

When Dida was 7, her parents and six of her 10 siblings were killed in the genocide. Her earliest memory is of running -- running with her sister, her mother and many others for reasons she says she didn't understand. Dida says she remembers first her father being shot, then her mother attacked.

"They put a spear in her back. ... Then they shot my younger sister and cut the leg off one of my other sisters. Then after that, that's when they killed my mom, but she did not die. She was talking to my sister, asking for water, but she could not go out to search for water. Then she died," Dida says.

Dida and her older sister, Claire, survived after the killers launched a grenade. "She was sleeping in front of me, and her blood was all over over me, and they thought we were both dead. That night she took me to walk," Dida says.

Days later on the dangerous journey, Dida and Claire were apprehended by a group and thrown into a pit of dead bodies.

"A certain day many killers came and the leaders took me and my sister and then they opened a big hole and threw us in. I was asking please forgive us." Dida says she asked Claire whether they were actually dead.

The two survived because a friend of Dida's sister paid someone to pull them out.

"Someone came and opened up and removed my sister and tried to remove me but because there were many dead they said, 'We leave her here.' "

Dida's sister saved her life when she offered to take her place. But they could not save everyone. "The sad thing is that they closed the pit, and they left the other man inside, and he was still alive," Dida says.

This is just a small part of Dida's complicated story.

When I asked her how she endured such tragedy and is able to cope today, she says, "I think it's an obligation. I have to do something good for my country. ... I ask myself why did I stay, why not my younger sister, why not my brother, and I say maybe God has something that he wants me to do."

Dida is doing plenty these days, including theater, teaching and voice-over work. She is most proud of her performances that draw attention to the problem of violence against girls and says it contributes to her healing.

"There is no paradise on Earth. What happened in Rwanda can happen anywhere," Dida says.

But Dida also is somewhat of an ambassador for her country.

"Rwanda is not only about genocide. I think Rwanda is about something else," she says. "I think many people when they hear Rwanda they link it with genocide, but after 18 years, Rwanda is at a certain point. ... We have our culture, we have our history, we have many things.

"We have a developing country. It's a tourist country. ... It is our history but we also want people to know that Rwanda is not all about genocide; Rwanda is something else."