Caitlyn Ssennyange

Well, it happened. I married the love of my life and best friend, and became Mrs. Eddy Ssennyange.

Being married has been the biggest blessing of my life to date. Our pastor told me in premarital counseling that "Eddy should be beyond compare with any other man" and he is. Eddy is the greatest, wisest, braves, most godly and compassionate man I know. I am beyond honored to be his wife, to serve at his side, and be his support in ministry and life for the rest of our days. I could not have anticipated the blessing that our union would be. Its a lot of fun little things, like cooking dinner for my husband, or staying up till 3 am talking because we have no curfew. It is not just joy, though there is an abundance of that. Its complete peace and wonder at the gift that marriage is. Its feeling God in new and exciting ways, feeling His love engulf and work in us daily as we start our new journey as One.

I have so much to say, and haven't posted in a long time. There have been many changes to ministry these days, and I am excited to update everyone. But for a moment, I just want to stay here and savor this new blessing. And don't worry... we have pictures :)

There Once Was a Boy...

His name was Yahaya. I have written about him before, here. He was known all through Kampala and Uganda as one of the most hopeless street children. I don’t know how long he lived on the streets, but I know it was most of his short life.

Today I got the call that Yahaya had died. I am heartbroken, and I am angry. I am writing this not to tug on heartstrings, or exploit his death. I am writing this to reveal the very brutal injustice that was Yahaya’s life, and how his Father feels about his death. When God knit Yahaya together in his mother’s womb, His plan was not death. Our God wanted us to choose to love Him, but we chose sin. Yahaya lived in a world that is broken by sin, and he suffered.

I fought for Yahaya on Jesus’ behalf, as did all of API and many other organizations in Kampala. Everyone loved him, and wanted to show him that he was special, worthy to be loved. I remember the day we brought him into our API home, how he ran and jumped into mine and Abby’s arms, so overjoyed that he was home. I also remember the disappointment of his running away later that night. We loved him. We fed him at our programs, and when I started Joseph’s House, it was with a few boys -including Yahaya- in mind. But no matter what I said, Yahaya was too broken by the time we started the home. He didn’t believe he was loved or wanted. I spent many nights in Kisenyi before we opened, looking for him, trying to show him how much I cared. I remember sitting in a restaurant, across a table with him, feeding him fried chicken and talking to him about how I had to go to America to fundraise, but that I was going to help him get off the streets when I got back. He told me “that would be good, because I have suffered a long time. I want to live in a home”. And he did, but he felt unworthy to do it.

The last time I saw Yahaya, he was almost dying of gangrene in his foot, which had been hit by a car. It was broken and infected, and I held his hands and let the nurse peel away dead skin. He was so high on chenge that he hardly cried, only wincing. I asked him during that last interaction if he would want to come into Joseph’s House (this was about 2 months ago). He told me no, that he just wanted to go back to Kisenyi. He told me he belonged there, and it was his only home. The nurse came in and told us that he would die if he didn’t take his antibiotics. We explained to him what that really meant, and how he needed to keep it clean and take his medicine. I asked him again if he would come home so he could get better.

He laughed, and told me “no auntie. I am sleeping on the streets tonight. Nobody loves me, and when I die I will die on the streets”. It was in that moment that I knew, in his heart, he had lost all hope.

Yahaya was born into a broken world, and until late in his childhood, he had never been loved by anyone. When he actually did find people who loved him, Satan had already begun working poison and lies deep into his heart. Jesus tried to love him. I tried to love him. Abby and David and API tried to love him. But he was lost.

I don’t know how old Yahaya was exactly, but he was tiny, the size of a 10 year old. He was malnourished and probably had TB. I cannot say he lived a good life, or died in peace or amongst friends. He was young, and he died a painful death in a slum. I would like to say that I know for sure he went to heaven, but I don’t know. I would like to say he has found peace in death, and is with his Father. My heart truly wants to believe that, and I know God is good and fought for Yahaya in life so He would also care for him in death. But I just don’t know.

What I do know is that I HATE sin, and the brokenness that infects this world. I hate that sin could win such power over Yahaya’s life. I hate that he never felt loved. It breaks my heart. I know that Jesus has won the fight for eternity, but we have a job too. Injustice is a battle, and we are fighting a very real fight of God’s love and eternal souls. These broken children are real. They cannot live forever on the streets. God’s heart is hurting for Yahaya, and mine is too.

If you love Jesus, then follow His calling. Wherever you are, whatever God has put on your heart, don’t waste this time He has given you. Take care of His sheep, feed and clothe Him by loving those He loves. Take up your cross, and start fighting the good fight.

On Skiing and Faith

If you know me, you’ll know that I love skiing. LOVE it. I love the feel of freezing air burning in my lungs. I love the icy wind on my nose, sitting on the lift, watching other people zooming down the perfectly groomed hill. I love the sheer exhilaration of racing wide open, coming around a corner and feeling the blades find the groove perfectly. Bending down, leaning into the mountain. Legs burning, heart pounding, I give every turn all I have. Over the years, I have spent countless blissful hours on the slopes with my dad. He is the best skier I know, and has taught me everything about the sport. I have worked on advancing many tiny details, that when put together, make me a “good skier”. But over all these years, there is one lesson that was harder to learn that the rest. Its something I see beginners struggle with over and over again. One of those things that easily shows skill level on the mountain.

See, when you find your feet racing out from under you on a mountain of snow, your instinct is to lean away from it. To lean back in your boots, because its scary. You don’t understand how to control movement yet, and so leaning forward and downhill seems like the worst idea. But in reality, its exactly what you need to do. Leaning back gives a false sensation of security. It makes you feel like you’re more in control, but leaning back is actually what is making you out of control. In order to master turning, you have to lean forward. Bend those knees, and lean down (my dad teaches this skill by making new skiers hold their poles with their knees bent). At first, its terrifying. It feels all wrong, but its right. And after a little practice, you quickly see that the further forward you bend, the more control you have.

In skimboarding, you throw your board over that perfect glassy inch of water left on the sand, following the wave back into the sea. When you jump on the board, you have to time it so that both feet land at the same time. You cannot hesitate, even though putting one foot on first seems better. If you don’t land with both feet, then one foot shoots in front of you with the board, and you end up on your butt in the sand (with a possibly hurt tailbone). When you’re swimming in the ocean, people get hurt in waves because they try and jump over them. When a wave is too big though, you have to dive under it. If you dive through/ under the wave, you’ll come out on the other side just fine. If you try and fight it, you’ll end up on the beach with sand up your nose. In all of these things, you have to commit. Bend forward, jump with both feet, dive.

Faith is like this. When God calls you to something, you cannot half commit, or it hurts. You have to go all the way. Jesus didn’t say “give half of what you have” he said “give all you have”. The call is not for the faint of heart, and it cannot be done without abandon. When things get hard, its often people’s instinct to turn away from God. But this is like skiing. When its hard, don’t lean back, lean in. Only by committing 100% will you make it. Don’t let that wave pummel you, dive!

Right now, its the holiday season. I won’t lie, I miss my family. I miss them a lot. But Uganda isn’t a “when it works for me” type of calling. Its a 100% kind of calling, and so that is what I have to give it. Sure, I can miss my family. I can be sad I am not with them, but I cannot dwell on it. Right now, I have to lean into my calling, and into Jesus. I have to give this my all, pouring more of myself out so I have more room for Jesus. Only by serving Him with everything I have will fill me up. So I am focusing on the good and beautiful things God has given me here, and thanking Him for all the blessing I have. These afflictions are eclipsed by glory, His glory. And that is a good thing :)

Alicia

You can read more about Alicia's life here

First, sorry to everyone that it has been SO LONG since I updated. I will try my best to be more consistent.

Its with a heavy heart that I write this post. On Nov 5th, I received news that a beautiful friend had ended her race here on Earth. Alicia Halpenny was a fellow missionary here in Uganda. I had the great privilege of serving along side her on several occasions, mentoring her in her first weeks in Uganda, and just enjoying her friendship. We were also linked by the men we each loved, who are best friends.

Alicia was incredible. She has Cystic Fibrosis, and was in constant pain for every breath that she took. This did not stop her at all from following God’s call to Uganda, or from bending down on her knees to serve Him and His orphans. She loved little children, and (being a nurse) had a heart for healing them. She loved people, and gave you all her focus while she was with you. She loved Jesus, and gave her life in service to Him. Alicia got really sick here in Uganda in October, and decided to go back to America for a little while so she could get better so that she could return to Uganda and continue serving Jesus. I was expecting to see her smiling face again in January, and it still feels like a blow that, this side of eternity, I never will.   There is so much I could say about her life, her perseverance, her faith, her laughter. But as much as her life impacted so many (so many!), her faith and love of Jesus has continued even in her death. Her legacy wasn’t just for remembrance of a life well lived, its a challenge, and it has challenged me in ways deeper than I thought were possible.

I first must admit that I am so far from perfect. I think that sometimes, people assume that because I am a missionary, my faith must be something special. That because I followed Jesus to Uganda, it makes me noble. That isn’t true. This work gets hard. Sometimes I hate it. Sometimes my headaches are so painful I don’t want to get up anymore, or I feel like I don’t have anymore love to give out. There are days I want to quit. There are days I want to go back to America. I am selfish. I am weak. And in the past few months, I lost sight of my Father.

Its like if you see the most beautiful painting in the world , and you are captivated by it. Captivated by it, and in love with its beauty, and in awe of the artist. And somehow, someway, you are blessed enough to take that picture home, and you hang it in your living room. And for the first few months, maybe years, you admire it. But then it just becomes part of the room, and you forget what it felt like when you first saw it. When people come to your home, they say “wow, that is so beautiful! how amazing!” and you agree, but secretly inside you cannot remember that feeling of awe anymore. I am so ashamed to say that my life, my calling to Uganda, and my faith had become like that. I was SO honored, so blessed, so unworthy to be anointed to do this work. I was so passionately in love with my King that service to Him was like my breath, easy and essential. It was all consuming, all I wanted, and all I needed. And then I got lost, and the beauty faded.

Alicia’s death brought reality crashing down around me. Here I witnessed a servant who, at 23, literally gave her all for our Lord. And He was good to her, and her faith was a testament to His glory. And her death was a testimony to the cost of calling ourselves His servants. Nothing else matters but Him. Nothing but His glory, and that is the call. To bring Him glory while taking care of His sheep. At Alicia’s memorial (which was streamed live to Uganda) many people gave their lives over to Christ. I know that right now, she is with our Father. There is no more pain, and she is crowned in glory as His good and faithful servant.

                                     “Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. 
                               Let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me. 
                                       Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, 
                          and my faith would be made stronger in the presence of my Savior”
                                                                                                - Oceans by Hillsong United

I love that song, Oceans. Its the first thing that I thought of when I heard she had been called home. I hate that her death is what it took to bring my faith and calling back into focus. But I am so grateful that death on the cross is our final hope, and the ultimate price. If I could say one more thing to Alicia, I would want her to know that even in death she brought glory to our King. Someday, I will tell her that. For today, I will focus on the only thing that matters. If it was all stripped away. If this calling costs me a life of pain from my migraines, if it cost me my family, if it costs me my friends in America, if it costs me my finances, if it costs me my very life... will I still consider it an honor to serve my King, and to have paid whatever price I had to so I could to do it? If it cost me everything, would Jesus be enough?


Yes.

MIGRAINE: DAY 12

Okay so always, my headaches have been a bummer. For those of you reading this that don’t know, I have a nerve condition called Occipital Neuralgia, which causes me to have a moderate headache 80% of the time, and a horrible migraine the other 20%. Since I was 16, this “thorn in my side” has followed me, but I deal. What else can I do right? I told God a long time ago that if His plan was not to heal me (which, so far, it has not been) then I would do my best to honor Him with my life anyways. If I am going to have a headache, I may as well persevere in serving the Lord, instead of letting Satan waste my days with pain.

But now I am (roughly) going on 2 weeks of this particular migraine. I don’t know why it started, or what caused it. I just woke up one morning with a throbbing head, and it hasn’t broken since then. And yes, I mean the whole 9 yards: sensitivity to light and sound-sick to my stomach-cannot sleep-exhausted from the pain- kind of migraine. For the first few days, I just slept, praying the headache would break and I would feel better. On day 5, when that hadn’t happened, I got out of bed. Since then, my days have been a blur of discomfort and exhaustion (physical and emotional). I need God to intervene here... I need a break.

This feels different because for the first time I am responsible for other people as well. That makes resting harder, because I am a mom. My headache makes me tired, and irritable, and I am having trouble giving my kids the love and attention they need from me. And I feel super guilty, and sad, and frustrated for needing so much rest. I don’t blame God for this at all, and am not angry at Him for allowing me to walk in this place. But I do need Him, and pretty desperately. I need this pain to go away, and I need prayer. If you can find it in your day to say a little prayer for me, for my headache and my energy, please do. That God will take this pain away, and that  until He does, He will give me the grace I need to parent these children in a way that honors Him.

I have walked in this place many, many times before. Its not new, but its still not easy. But God never leaves my side, and He will always be my strength, especially when I have none.

The Big Brick Wall

So I wasn't wanting to post today, but a wise mentor suggested I let all of you in on how I am feeling at this particular moment, because sometimes the truth is what needs to be told. And we need prayer, because we cannot move forward without it. This week I have felt pretty discouraged. Partially this is because I have had a horrible migraine for the past 5 days, and am just physically exhausted from being in so much pain. Also because of this, I am emotionally worn down. I feel like we (Joseph's House) has come to a stuck place with our kids. A place where we need a Divine breakthrough, because I feel like I am beating my fists against a massive brick wall that cannot be broken.

Today, I woke up at 7AM to hysterical screaming from the living room. This was being caused by two of our boys * Michael and *Brian (*I am changing their names for privacy). These two boys have been fighting ALL THE TIME recently, and today was the last straw. Michael had injured Brian so badly we had to take him to the clinic (think Mike Tyson...).  Michael was then so upset because he had a punishment for fighting that he proceeded to threaten to break down all the windows and hurt everyone in the house for the next two hours. He eventually cried himself to sleep, and things became somewhat peaceful again, but by this time it was 10AM, and the morning had been so upset that we had significant trouble getting the other boys to settle down and get back to their homeschooling. Just another normal day right?

See, it feels like these kind of days are increasing recently instead of decreasing. Like these fights are getting more frequent. We are having other problems with another two boys who are mostly refusing to go to school. They make it through a little while, then quit about mid-morning. I feel really stuck as to what discipline can make them choose to study, because no matter what we do, the effects are not long lasting. This heart change (wanting to try, and to study) is not happening, and it needs to. And its days like today that make me feel like I am loosing this war. Like on the surface, we are making improvements, and we are. Some of our boys are doing amazing, seriously miraculously well. And I see God changing their hearts, and their lives. And I am so thankful! Little things like the fact that Brian has started making his bed every morning without being asked (small as that seems) is huge. He was on the streets for 7 years, and teaching him this simple responsibility is an incredible accomplishment. But on other, bigger things, there are days I feel like we have made no progress at all, and it breaks me down.

And so I am beating against this wall, and its so stupid. My fists cannot win against this wave of evil, against the corruption that has broken these children. All my love and wisdom and discipline will never be enough. This battle, the fight to heal these boys and give them back their childhoods, is a fight beyond me. Its a spiritual battle that God is fighting harder than I can even imagine. He is on our side, fighting for His children. He will break down this brick wall, and bring us all past it. And so its to Him that I cling, His promise to take care of me and these boys.

I will say to the Lord "You are my place of safety and my protection. You are my God, and I trust you"- Psalm 91:2

Lessons in Love

There was a time when I thought I knew a lot about love. Believed I knew what it felt like to love someone in a selfless way, or even to be in love. The thing I have been learning though, over the past few months, is that love is always expanding, never staying in one place. This, I think, is because God’s love is so infinite and big that no matter how much we think we understand, in our humanness, we only see/feel/ know a fraction of His all encompassing love. And so the more we experience God, and His Divine love, the more our understanding of love itself grows. There will never be a time when I know all things about love, because God is love. Its a mystery, and my understanding of it will always be pushed, stretched, even broken and then rebuilt. This is the verse that is currently shaping my understanding of love...

      “  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,                                      endures all things.” 1 Cor 13:7

What is this verse ultimately saying about love? What so many millions of poems and love songs, movies and art have been proclaiming for thousands of years! Love is NOT overrated. It is both simple, and extremely complex. It is at the core of our being, our creation. It is the thing we are made to experience, and the most powerful aspect of human interactions. Love is profound. Love is grand. Love IS divine.

Love tells me that I am to “bear all things”. When my kids are pushing me to the brink of exhaustion and back, I will bear it. When they are breaking my heart with running away, I will bear it. No matter what God calls me to do, what this ministry goes through, what battles are waged against us, I will bear it.

Love claims I will “believe all things”. When everyone tells me a certain child will never change, love believes he can. When this work tests my faith, draws me out on a wire far above where I was comfortable standing, love shouts “believe in God’s ultimate power!”. Believe in the power of love... God’s love, and my own. Believe that love can heal whatever looks too far broken. Believe that love can bring together what seems impossible. Believe in the power of our God.

Love demands that I hope all things- never loose hope. Never loose sight of what I am doing here, the vision that God has called me towards. Never loose hope in His great plans, or hope in His ultimate victory. Never loose hope that He is working, no matter what circumstances I am facing, or how hard the situation appears.

Finally friends, love endures all things.

en·dur·ance 
/enˈd(y)o͝orəns/

NOUN

1. The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way.
2. The capacity of something to last or to withstand wear and tear.

This, for me, is by far the most powerful claim that love makes. It endures all things! That word, endures, is so strong. Its the power to “withstand wear and tear”. Its the power to stay strong and not give way. This claim love makes, to endure all things (not some but all things, mind you) its powerful. Hello, what does this say about love? What we should know always but sometimes forget.. love is STRONG. Stronger than our understanding. Stronger than our own faith or bodies. Love is another great paradox. It makes us weaker than anything else, breaks our hearts and tests our faith, then turns around to endures more than anything else. It can do so because its so strong, and in our weakness, we become stronger.