Prayers to Move the Hand of God

At last we have leveled the playing field.  Once a year the US has a Diversity Lottery to allow immigrants from around the world the slim chance to obtain the coveted United States Visa in order to immigrate to freedom.

My African Son, Jerry has been a refugee in Uganda for the last 12 years.  He has been ousted from his home country of DRC-Democratic Republic of Congo, where it is anything but Democratic.  Rebels killed most of his family and Jerry escaped with only the clothes on his back. Madness of the highest order fueled by evil, greed and grotesque torture on every level.

He went from a civilized and affluent upbringing to the nothingness of being a man without a country with refugee status in Uganda.  When he arrived, he did not even speak the language.

In twelve years, he has married Zawadi, had a family, started an organization to help his fellow countrymen who are also refugees.  He learned the language, miraculously obtained a college degree through the Lord’s provision.  He chose to live in the city of Kampala rather than in a tent in a refugee camp.

As a refugee, he will never be interviewed for a job as jobs go to the Ugandan people and he is “no people at all” according to the world.  His only citizenship is being a child of the King.  His mother taught him about Jesus and Jerry’s faith has grown as God continually provides for Jerry and his family in the depths of despair through many ordinary people who are the hands and feet of Jesus.

Only 55,000 world wide will be awarded this passport to freedom and for once, even the refugee is eligible to apply.  So now we have a chance, an edge, an advantage, a Divine Way Maker.  Our prayers CAN move the hand of God.

Our God can part the Red Sea and allow Jerry and his family their dream of coming to America.  Our prayers are our hope to make this happen.  My friends have been so generous to give so that Jerry could give to others who had even less than him.  Other friends like Dr. Pingnan Shi (an immigrant from Communist China) has voluntarily partnered with Jerry to provide educational opportunities to these refugees.  God has moved in the hearts of many to make provision for Jerry until he can have the freedom to live in a free country where he can obtain work and provide for his family.

Now I am asking for your prayers an all-out massive prayer effort that moves the hand of God. From October 7th until November 10th, the lottery is open.  Jerry’s application was made on day one.  Will you pray with me daily during this month for God to make a way for Jerry and his family to be selected for this passport to freedom.

While our own country is so terribly divided and we are fighting with each other, there truly are starving children in Africa who look to the United States as the greatest place on earth.  How easily we too could become refugees.  All it takes is people without conscience to kill, steal and destroy.  Let us all realize the great opportunity and freedom we have in the greatest country in the world.

And let’s pray to the God of the Impossible for Jerry to be granted freedom.

These are the people you are praying for.

Jerry and Zawadi
L-R Anna David Hope Joseph






Polly Riddell writing as G. Polly Jordan is a free-lance journalist connecting people through the stories they tell.  She is Mwamikazi to an African family trusting God for a miracle.


View the series and fall in love with this family.

Jerry’s Story – The Backstory – Part 1

Job Opportunities in Exile – Part 2

The Miracle of a Gentle Nudge – Part 3

She is Your Grandmother – Part 4

Mwamikazi – Part 5

Africa-Civil War-Refugees – Who Cares??? – Part 6

Christmas in Africa In August – Part 7

Machine Guns and Women’s Underwear – Part 8

When The Brook Dries Up – Part 9

Through My Eyes – Part 10

For the Least of These – Part 11

Prayers to Move the Hand of God – Part 12

Set The Captives Free-A Prayer For Jean

With Mother’s Day fast approaching, our hearts go out to our mothers and grandmothers we have not seen for weeks going on months thanks to the pandemic.  Many are actually held hostage in solitary confinement in nursing facilities.  But what would you do if your mother was the pawn in a family feud that purposely isolated her for years against her will in a nursing home?  What happens when power and greed are so totally pervasive that others are intimidated and threatened if they act? What would you think when those charged with protecting the rights of the elderly are circumvented at every turn and family members are destroyed one-by-one by extraordinary evil, corruption and abuse of power? Continue reading “Set The Captives Free-A Prayer For Jean”

For the Least of These

Jerry Mbokani is my refugee son from Africa.  The COVID-19 shutdown in Uganda where he is currently exiled has hit the urban refugee community in ways few of us can possibly imagine.  If you are a refugee in the city, you work and then you eat.  With all industry shut down, the refugee does not eat.  All transportation in Uganda has been shut down as well.  It is an impossible situation short of the miraculous provision by people who are the hands and feet of a living God.  Continue reading “For the Least of These”

Beauty in the World Remains Constant

I have a dear friend who attended high school with me.  He is an outstanding photographer and one of the finest men I know.  Once “social distancing” started and he was unable to continue his business travel, he started posting some of his favorite photos and tells stories about them.  I wanted to share his posts but he is very private and does not like the spotlight.  I asked if I could put his travelogue into my blog and keep him anonymous .  He agreed to that!  He and his lovely wife live in Bend Oregon which is stunning in itself.
I asked him if he would continue this posting and sharing until he ran out of stunning photos.  He has not told me no!  So I am hoping this compilation will inspire him to put these in book form once this pandemic is over.  No matter what, I will have an amazing collection from a most talented friend.  He honored me by telling me that my storytelling/photography is what inspired him. He has always been the gentleman. Continue reading “Beauty in the World Remains Constant”

Through My Eyes

I did not go looking for a refugee family in Africa to adopt.  They found me.  It started as just an ordinary writing assignment for an ever curious storyteller and blossomed into a life altering relationship orchestrated by the ONE who answers our prayers.  The thing is, I had never prayed to adopt a refugee family from Africa.  God, what are you up to? Continue reading “Through My Eyes”

And Then This Happened

The Christmas miracle of 2018 left the challenges of my past in the dust.  A job perfectly suited for all my quirks and challenges had been offered.  I became a “street walker” in one of the worst opioid counties in Indiana and my assignment was to conduct health interviews for research for an esteemed University in Indiana.  The light, dressed in snake skin boots and a leopard print coat entered the darkness of poverty, hopelessness and addiction near the eastern edge of Indiana. Continue reading “And Then This Happened”

Machine Guns and Women’s Underwear

What do machine guns and women’s underwear have to do with sending filmmaking equipment to Africa? My missionary friend saw my post from Walmart that I was buying crates to make a shipment to Africa.  He sent me a warning that corrupt customs officials were confiscating items of value and holding them for ransom.  It seems that white women traveling alone to Africa were targeted for this tactic.  He recalled that my last crate of Christmas gifts for my African refugee family was transported by just such a white woman traveling alone. Continue reading “Machine Guns and Women’s Underwear”

Christmas in Africa in August

Not even a power outage could dampen the spirits of Jerry’s family as they eagerly surrounding a big red crate full of Christmas gifts from their American grandmother.  The gifts went from Indiana to New Mexico to Uganda with a detour to the African bush and then made the journey to Jerry’s house via hours of public transportation through a torrential downpour. We planned a video chat so that Grandma could share in the joy of the moment.  A cell phone that won’t hold a charge, a power outage from the storm and a flashlight was all they had, but it was still Christmas, in Africa in August. Continue reading “Christmas in Africa in August”