from my perspective: July 11th

I am going to be very transparent in this entry. I have yet to tell about the July 11th bombing, which forever shaped my testimony, from my perspective. Part of me thinks this is something I need to recap not only for myself but also for others. I don’t feel like people understand how the Lord literally wrapped His arms around my group and kept us from harm. I also think that His power is being diminished by our restricted brains. He can move mountains and so often we act like He can’t even take care of our basic needs. All that’s needed is Faith. I am certain that the amount of prayer that was covering us as we were in Uganda and the faith behind each prayer is part of the reason I am still here. I cannot express in words every single thing that happened the night of July 11, 2010, but I am sure going to try.

I woke up Sunday, July 11th, at the apartment in Kampala, Uganda and got ready for church. I remember I was running late (shocker, I know) and everyone was in Kenneth’s car waiting on me. Kenneth was a guy we had met that drove us basically everywhere. We drove to the orphanage about 30 minutes away and met the kids and boys. I had my usual glass of coffee (African coffee is amazing!) and just relaxed before we left for church. We took the kids to church, just like any other Sunday we had spent there. After church we came back to the orphanage to eat lunch. Usually lunch was around 2:00….yes, TIA (“This is Africa”). African time is VERY different from American time. Nothing is ever rushed and time moves at the pace of a snail. At some point in the afternoon, I went onto the rooftop with some of the kids and Allen was up there reading. We talked a bit and attempted to discuss plans for the big game that night. It was the day of the Final game in the World Cup! After talking to our friends, Jill and Katrina, we decided to meet them for dinner at Café Roma, which just so happened to be my favorite restaurant in Uganda. I remember walking into Jay and Allen’s room that evening and coming into Catherine and Allen’s conversation about possibly eating dinner at Ethiopian Village. Ethiopian Village is where we watched most of the big games during the Cup only because they had the largest projector screen ever and best Mt. Dews around (actually everywhere in Africa had awesome Mt. Dews). Let me preface this next section with this: I absolutely hate Ethiopian food. I would order a plate of french fries (that were less than average) every time we ate there for a game and I barely forced those down without feeling nauseous. Needless to say, when I heard Allen saying that he would rather us eat there so we could sit really close to the screen, I was not thrilled and quickly voiced my opinion. I just put on my pitiful act and said that I REALLY wanted Italian and had been looking forward to it all day. Catherine thankfully agreed so Allen’s choice got vetoed. Yes! I just wanted pizza! Kenneth was due to pick us up in enough time for us to get to the Italian restaurant to eat and make it to Ethiopian Village long before the game was to begin. We knew this was going to be a big game…it was the Final and Africa lives for soccer. Well one thing led to another, and Kenneth ended up being extremely late. I remember telling the boys that we had to still go eat Café Roma because we had already told Jill and Katrina we were and we couldn’t back out now. Another point for Carrie! I could tell they were a bit agitated but nonetheless, they agreed to go to Café Roma for dinner. We somewhat rushed through dinner, with the boys often looking at their watches for the time, and Kenneth picked us back up to take us to watch the game. When we pulled up to Ethiopian Village it was jam-packed. After getting out of the car, we stood around trying to decide whether or not to stay and try to find a place to sit or just go up the street and watch the game at another restaurant. Personally, I was fine either way so I let the boys do all the navigating. Once the decision was made to stay, I followed everyone to this little concrete room that was off to the right of the place where we normally sat. We were inside a building that basically had three walls, a huge opening/door, and a window. I sat down next to Jay. Allen was in front of me and then everyone else was on the right side. Several of us had been playing this game on my iPod touch and Allen had the highest score. I was determined to beat him, so this is what I was doing before the game began. Allen saw me playing it so he scooted back and was then seated to my left. Jay to my right. The three of us continued playing during commercials and then it got a little old so I laid it in my lap. We had our Mountain Dews and were watching the final game cheering and giving high fives to the people all around us. I had just spoken to the couple behind me when Allen decided to get up and go to the bathroom. Jay was coaching me through all the penalties and rules of the game since I really haven’t a clue when it comes to soccer. Something happened right before half that extended the time on the game a few more minutes. Allen came back, sat down, and I was about to tell him what happened when the whistle blew for the half. Everything went black. It was the loudest noise I have ever heard. I was so disoriented and turned around after being blown out of my chair that I just stood there. I had no clue what it was. I looked outside our little building and I saw bodies flying through the air. Tables and chairs too. Then I looked down. The people I had just spoken to, lay dead. The lady next to me was missing her leg. What in the world is going on? I was in shock. Clueless. This was a scene I had seen on a video game. This could not be real. I heard my brother screaming my name. I remember locking eyes with him and he reached out and grabbed my hand. I was against the back wall. Allen on my right. Jay on my left. A million things were running through my mind, but I prayed. Out loud. I just knew I was going to meet Jesus in a matter of minutes. Didn’t know how painful it was going to be, but I sure didn’t expect to make it out of there. After staying against the wall for some time (not sure how long), the 7 of us stood up together and Jay made the decision for us to walk out of the building. As I’m walking out, I remember Allen telling me not to touch anyone. There was blood all over us and all over the ground, and we didn’t know if it belonged to us or to the others that weren’t as fortunate. The pictures I saw as I was leaving will forever haunt me. I felt like I was skiing on blood. The amount of screams, cries, blood, and distorted bodies that lay in our little three wall building was more than I could handle. I looked down to grab my backpack (yes, I wanted to get it if possible because it had all my IDs in it) and as I am picking it up, I see my iPod touch shattered to pieces on the floor. That thing had been lying in my lap. I don’t remember much after leaving the building. I was shocked, so confused, and very emotional. Once we got to the street, we huddled up together and prayed to the One who could save us, the One who did protect us, and the One who had stolen my heart a long time ago. Jesus Christ. He was in control. That whole time, He was there. Sometimes it’s hard to see; hard to know that He would be okay with us going through something like that. But in the midst of it all, He was there. He never left us. Kenneth came and got us and took us 25 miles away to the orphanage. I never again went back to the apartment in Kampala. We found out that it had been a bomb and that there were several that had exploded throughout the night. Over 70 people were dead. We were spared. Two days later, we returned home to the United States. As much as I love home, part of my heart is in Africa. I will never forget the time I spent there or the experience that my Sovereign God led me in and out of safely. This is now my testimony.