God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling.
Psalm 46:1-3
“Though we hear gunshots!” Zion (then 6) declared beaming a full-faced smile at me. Yes, my sweet child, even though you hear gunshots, you need not fear because God is in control. 2023 saw an increase in raids unlike anything our family had experienced previously in Karamoja. It became nearly a nightly event. You’d hear the popping distant sounds as you were falling asleep. You’d take a moment to assess how close and which direction, or whether it was raiders versus soldiers from the army, pray, then roll over and go back to sleep. Thankfully, most frequently after the kids were already asleep, although they would hear the discussions the next day about where the raid had been, how many cows were taken and whether anyone got hurt. There were two occasions however, when the children were very much awake.
The first happened as we were about to leave the home of another missionary family’s who had invited us to dinner. There were only a handful of gunshots, but they sounded close, in the direction of the road. We all slipped down onto the floor, the girls crawled out of the kids’ bedroom where they had been playing, and we huddled together speculating on the events outside. After about 15 minutes without further incident, we decided to risk the short walk home. As we crossed the compound that separated our homes, I looked back toward the road and saw what could have been warning signals on the wall of China – a row of dancing lights, presumably curious spectators out investigating. We found out later, that a local neighbor was trying to steal a pump and generator from the road company, which was building a bridge in the main road. That event introduced my girls to the sound of gunshots.
We began talking more about what to do if you hear gunshots, like an earthquake or fire drill at school. Go inside, get down below the windows, don’t go to investigate, stay calm. It soon proved wise.
It was a Saturday afternoon after a goodbye party for departing teammates. Missionary and local kids were playing in our house as their parents were cleaning up. I had gone back to the party in the next compound for a few more quick pictures that we wanted to share as a goodbye gift, when the shots began. They were automatic weapons in the direction of Nakaale. I could hear screaming in the village and I took off running for our house. I burst through the screen doors to find all the children calmly sitting on the floor in the girls’ room, and Carmel brightly shared, “I’m so glad I know what gunshots sound like now!” I put an audio story on for them, told them to stay down, and proceeded to chop vegetables balancing the cutting board on my lap on the floor – we were having guests to dinner. Christopher, still at the dwindling party, shared that he received a call from a friend apologizing for not coming as agreed since he was hiding behind a termite mound. It was soldiers come to Nakaale to reclaim stolen cattle. They were shooting and arresting rather indiscriminately. Everyone fled for cover.
Through experience I learned how to read the sounds. Automatic weapons, and later mortar fire, meant the army. A few isolated pops were village raiders or hired security for the road company. Shots during light hours meant soldiers reclaiming lost property. Automatic weapons at night, meant someone was stealing from the army, which had set up three different barracks within earshot. If I heard a ruckus in the night, I stayed near home on my morning runs rather than venturing up the road. It became a daily ritual with the staff to ask where the raid was the night before. I thanked God routinely for our metal locked doors and mission policy not to keep livestock. I never felt personally threatened, and familiarity began to dull the shock of our situation. We continued on, hearing the tales of woe as neighbors and friends shared about the items that were stolen, the harrowing experiences of a night under attack or spent in the hills, a friend killed, another grazed by a bullet on the knee, a husband arrested for running toward the gunshots instead of away. My prayer deepened and instead of returning too quickly to sleep when awakened by the telltale pops, I prayed that the church would know the Lord’s presence and shine His light in these darkest of times.
It was then, that I began to memorize Psalm 46 together with the girls and Zion responded so innocently, so faithfully. Her response filled me with joy and relief. Though the world is in chaos, the very ground beneath you seeming to buck and buckle, you need not fear because the Lord is with you and He reigns over it all. Be still, my child, and know me. What blessed peace that enduring truth brought in the maelstrom!
Thankfully, the army began to achieve its end. Bandits from Kenya have been chased out of the foothills of Mt Kadam. Cattle raids have reduced. The nightly serenade has returned to crickets, frogs, and owls. Christmas Eve I heard the first village party all year (usually a common event around full moons or harvest). Gunshots are again an anomaly.
It would not surprise me if when the soldiers are sent to the next crisis point the raids resume. It is only the Spirit of God who can change hearts and reshape lives, elevating the place of God-worship and value of life over one’s reputation, status or wealth. Yet now, and should that time come again, we rest safe in the arms of our reigning savior.