Court From My Eyes

Thanks Jonathan for writing the first post about our first court date. I loved reading the different perspective. I thought that I’d explain the journey from my eyes.

 I never really got nervous about court. I think I just kept going back to: If God has brought us this far; He isn’t going to leave us hanging. So, the day started off like a beautiful normal day in the hillside of Uganda. J We did have to rush around a bit to get ready to leave, because as most of you know, we are not early risers, nor people that leave enough time to get things done. We woke up and got dressed then headed up for breakfast. Jonathan was feeding the kids and a little frustrated that I told him to put on his clothes for the day. Ki is NOT a clean eater and he LOVES to feel his food.....after he has chewed it. J (Jonathan is successfully breaking him of this habit slowly, but surely.) When I walked up stairs, I noticed the modem was back and the power was on and wanted to send the post I had written the night before so you folks back home could pray specifics. So, I came back to our room and grabbed my laptop. But, by the time I had gotten to the table with my food, someone came from the director’s house and took it back. Bummer, I thought, but oh well. So, back down stairs to put my laptop away. As I was walking back up, I heard the horn honk, so I grabbed my pancake and a napkin and we were off.

I had been thinking that is was a little overkill to get here 3 days before our court date but gosh, I’m really glad we had that time to get to know Elsie. We keep saying she is a tough nut to crack. But, by Tuesday morning, she was pretty comfortable with me and not freaking out when sitting next to Taata (which means Daddy in Luganda). We ran a few errands and carrying around a toddler and a backpack proved to be a little sweaty. I kept yelling to Rashid, reminding him of my short legs. He would look back and give a sly smile and chuckle. But, he was slow down to a normal speed for a least a minute or so.

I felt safe while we were out. Jonathan and I were laughing and having fun together. Rashid left us alone at a Mazungu café for a couple of hours, which felt normal, which was nice.

Before he walked away, he told us that he was going to find the birth mom and feed her lunch. She left super early and had a hard journey and hadn’t eaten. He said she felt weak and her heart was pounding. Gosh, what an ordeal for her. She didn’t want any of this. And she hates it all while in the middle of it. But she gets what so many of us don’t....it isn’t about her. She isn’t doing this because it will make her life better. Her life sucks. Her husband most likely fooled around with someone that was HIV positive and once he found out he was infected, he had to tell his wife what he had done. I’m sure that night was hell for her. Oh, and she was pregnant so now she has to worry about the health of her unborn child on top of worrying about how long will she will be able to raise her other children. Thanks, Frank. So, then he dies at or near their home of Malaria. And even when someone you love has wronged you, you hurt when something like this happens. Another terrible day for Pauline. So, she gets on with her life and six months after burying her husband, she gives birth to his last child. But she knows she is HIV positive so she can’t nurse him. And no one is working to provide for her so she can’t feed him. So, the nightmare continues. And after a year she realizes, as her health is fading, that she just can’t do it. She can’t feed them. And even to take care of them is getting tough. She doesn’t want the older kids to miss out on an education because of her story. So, she decides it isn’t about her and what she wants and how she feels. It is about what is best for her children; her older children and her younger children. And so she lets them go. But it isn’t that easy. She isn’t getting rid of them because they are a burden, or she would have just left them by the village trash or just let them wither away. She cares deeply for them and wants for them what she didn’t have and to do that, she has to deny herself. Rashid told me when Pauline gave the kids to him, Elsie cried for days. Pauline knew how precious her daughter was and how much this was going to hurt Elsie, but she did it anyway. Then, she had to come to Kampala to terminate her rights as their parent; a long, hard journey. And this day, she is back again. Tired, broken, hungry, and hurting.

I could see all this in a nano-second when she walked in the waiting room door. Her eyes told me the whole story. She wanted to look at the babies, and wanted to be strong enough NOT to look at the babies. I could see the battle going on inside of her. And it was taking its toll on her fragile soul. I had prepared NO words for this moment. I just motioned to ask if I could hug her. I wanted to take some of her pain. I wanted her to know that she is loved by a family of New Mexicans and that while we can’t make everything okay, we would love these two little people as our own. We hugged and she cried for just a bit and then my focus shifted. It is hard to love two sides of the same coin at the same time. By love, I don’t mean the feeling kind of love. I mean the Jesus kind of love, the kind of love that does and acts and wipes tears away. I wanted to sit with her and hear her story and cry with her. But I couldn’t. I had a broken, whimpering gift in my arms. And if I was to love her the best, I had to walk away.

I sat back in my chair and Elsie’s whimpering escalated to crying. She was trying to look behind us and confirm what she had seen just a few minutes before. I shimmied my shoulders and shifted in my chair. I shushed her and sang to her but her heart was broken. And I knew that Pauline could hear and see it all. Two sides of the coin, both broken. I was in between...praying. It was all I had to offer. As she got louder, she started pushing me away and wouldn’t look into my eyes. I don’t think I will ever understand her pain, but I feel like God gave me a glimpse. I wanted to take it all away. And I knew that in my power I couldn’t. So, I asked the only one powerful enough to come in.

Lord, Elsie is hurting and there is nothing I can do to stop it. She needs You, Holy Spirit, to come and comfort her. I want You to wipe her heart clean and love on her. Be near to Elsie Lord.

I decided to walk out and wander the hallways. We went potty in a not so wonderful bathroom. (It was America-bad, not Uganda-bad. There was a toilet and a place for toilet paper and a sink and mirror.) After she went, I stood her up on the counter and showed Elsie her reflection. She smiled. She was wearing a beautiful dress and a little crocheted sweater and a pink sparkly headband. We played. I showed her how to stick her tongue out and for a moment she forgot her pain. We found a little nook in the hall and I held her and rocked her. She sucked her thumb and went from blank to sad and back to blank a couple of times.

I was so connected to her and how to help her that I was shocked when we got called in. So soon? I hadn’t dwelled on it yet. I thought we would have more time. But the moment had arrived. Pauline sat catty-corner behind us and so Jonathan blocked Elsie’s sight of her birth mom as long as I held her the right way. Most of court was a blur. I wasn’t fully present in court. I was fully present in Elsie’s world. I was keenly aware that I might miss something important but knew Elsie’s heart was my mission. Pauline was called up to talk with the judge. I turned Elsie to face backwards. She kept me on my toes. Pauline spoke very softly, which I was really thankful for. I don’t know what I would have done if her voice was like mine. J Even thought I don’t think I had the presence of mind to pray for her, I know I was hoping that the judge wasn’t being mean. After Pauline, it was my turn. I had to hold Elsie with her back to her birth mom. The judge took his time with stories and questions. He would pause for a good 30 seconds after his story before he asked his question. I just kept my gaze on him and waited. While answering I continued to remember the advice to be short and to the point. He is a man, he is okay with man-sized answers. So, even when I wanted to keep going, I would stop. I remember once even saying out loud, “I’m going to stop there.” It made me feel better somehow to let everyone know I could keep going. Some of his questions were fair and some not so fair, but I shot straight and kept his eyes. My arm, by the end of my turn was ON FIRE. J The lawyer mentioned that we had purchased the certificate from the King’s Palace and the picture of the King, but we forgot it in the car. He said, “That is very unfortunate.” Awesome. But you know, I think even that was from God. While we were buying those things earlier in the day I was thinking that I didn’t want to show off for the judge. My God is our King and He is doing this work. I wanted to be relying on Him, not papers. The judge’s next question was to ask if Jonathan would be leaving soon and letting me finish up by myself here in Uganda. Jonathan responded with such grace and confidence. “No sir, I am staying until the end. This is important to me.” Judge Moses looked up from his writing and grabbed the calendar.

(A little back ground: Of the families that have gone through this judge from this orphanage, they have had to wait between 10 days and 3 weeks for a ruling, I’ve heard. And if you would have seen the post I wrote, but never got to send, you would know that I wanted God to move mountains....again. In my post the night before I asked for you guys to pray for one week. And that is what we got. When he said Tuesday, November 6, I really wasn’t expecting him to be telling us that yet. We had only been in court for 45 minutes. The family that did this before us, spent 2 hours and 45 minutes in the court room. Jonathan hadn’t gone up yet. I was focused on Elsie. She was singing louder than she ever had before. (It was still what we call a whisper-sing, but it was louder.) So, I was confused and when it registered I thought, “Did he say the 16^th or 6^th?” Jonathan confirmed mountains were moved. 1 week. That got my tear ducts going. And we blinked and court was adjourned. Done. I think it shocked me so much that it took me a minute to start packing up and the lawyer basically told us to get out...kindly of coarse.

We fumbled to get our stuff and stand up. Did I mention it was boiling-lava hot in that room? I asked Jonathan to go catch Pauline and get a picture with her but told him I was going to hang back. I sat Elsie down in the hallway and got out some gummy treats. She was waving and smiling at people as they walked by. She was not the same little girl that sat in my lap, broken, only an hour before. We walk-jumped down the stairs and met Jonathan outside. I was full of questions trying to get a sense of things from Jonathan. I was still a little stunned that it was over. Jonathan had to stop me (surprise, surprise) and say “Look! Elsie is twirling.” Elsie was teeth-showing happy. God came in and she hasn’t been the same since. We still have a long way to go, but we have turned a corner. And with God on our side, we are moving forward.