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

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”

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”

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”

Africa-Civil War-Refugees…Who Cares?

Africa is the most corrupt continent on the planet. The plight of a refugee in Africa is seldom on the mind of the typical American.  We are busy living our lives of freedom, running the kids to after-school activities, dreaming of our next sports car or planning our next vacation.  I might consider myself willing to help others but I was certainly never ever thinking about genocide, civil war or exile in Africa.  It was so unrelatable to my middle-class American life.  Until Jerry connected with me on Facebook. Continue reading “Africa-Civil War-Refugees…Who Cares?”

Mwamikazi

At age 62, Mother’s Day took on significant meaning when I was adopted into the Bushi tribe in Africa.  My new sons pronounced me Mwamikazi “Queen Mother.”  I have never been one to take the traditional path.   In fact, I feel a little like Abraham when God told him in his old age, he would be father to the nations.  Having no children of my own, I am surely an oddity.  I have started collecting children and grandchildren in my old age. Continue reading “Mwamikazi”

She Is Your Grandmother

Jerry is my friend living in exile in Uganda.  He is a refugee who escaped the barbaric acts of the corrupt government officials in his homeland of DRC – Democratic Republic of Congo.  Trust me, there is no democracy there.  Through our many months of daily messages on WhatsApp, I have come to love this family who are my brothers and sisters in Christ.  But one day, I actually became a grandmother to his children. Continue reading “She Is Your Grandmother”

The Miracle Of A Gentle Nudge

There is a family I have gotten to know via long distance communication who live in exile in Uganda as refugees 8000 miles away from Indiana in a foreign land of a foreign culture in the most extreme conditions.  This is Jerry’s family.  Zawadi is his wife, and their four children range in age from an infant daughter Anna born last Christmas, Joseph a toddler, Hope and David primary school age.  Jerry also provides a home to a foster daughter Tumaini and his step-sister Emiliane. Continue reading “The Miracle Of A Gentle Nudge”