“Something funny happened as we waited for our departure plane in Phoenix,” Steve says. It was 10pm on a Tuesday night. We were waiting to board our plane in the crowded waiting area. Other than the normal amount of TSA security-induced tension in the room, it was a fairly subdued crowd.
Francis could not hold his gratitude at bay. With tears of gratitude, maybe even relief, he fell to his knees and flung his arms around the legs of ITMI’s Steve Evers, sobbing. “Thank you. Thank you…” he kept repeating. What Steve was empowered by ITMI supporters to do was simple. For Francis, it was life-changing.
Nursa stood, facing the congregation of her fellow believers who had gathered for an evening service in Juba, South Sudan. “God is Good,” she reminded them, and she illuminated how He’d been good to her personally. Nursa, a widow…
“I am too happy and I cannot discipline you!” she told the students. What made normally very restrained and professional teachers too giddy to discipline their students? Find out more…
The trip began with an airplane fire over the ocean and a vehicle robbery. Not exactly how you’d choose to begin a 4 week trek through South Africa and Zambia.
Vicky’s home isn’t like anything we’re used to seeing. Physically, its uniquely South Sudanese. These 8 improvements will illuminate life in South Sudan. But it isn’t just the physical differences between living in South Sudan and other parts of the world that make this home a special place.
After three long days of labor, Laizah was experiencing complications and still had not given birth. The doctor ordered a C-section procedure. “If you don’t have money, they usually use student doctors or nurses to do the operation,” her husband, Cozmore, explains.
It dawned as normal as a morning can be for Americans visiting Juba, South Sudan. But it turned out to be a day we’ll never forget.ITMI’s Kent Reisenauer and I waited in our hotel’s small restaurant. Vicky Waraka, our long-time South Sudanese partner, was late for our breakfast meeting.
It was a tranquil Sunday morning. The town of Kampala, Uganda had not yet awakened. The tropical birds and insects, filled the air with clatter and squeaking as they searched for their breakfast. I enjoyed the calming effects of distant, traditional whole-choir numbers from an open-air Catholic parish even as they competed with faint chants from a nearer Muslim mosque. The tranquility of the morning would be long-gone later that afternoon.
We just wanted to go to Katooga slum to get a few photos telling the story of what life is like in much of Uganda, give out a few “sweets” and not cause a scene. But Francis had other plans.