This is NOT it

Six months ago, Bryan and I (Lewie) revisited Uganda where we spent time in Kyangwali (Changwali) refugee camp. There, we spoke to many women. As we were talking to a group, one lady, clearly fed up, spoke out in frustration. "People like you come here and ask us these questions, but when will we ever receive help? When do we get something out of it?" Immediately convicted, I hesitated. While not wanting to give unwarranted assurance and provide false hope, I did choose to make them a promise. I told them, "Listen. The American Bible Society is working on and currently implementing programs to provide women who are suffering in the DRC with trauma healing. As we speak, there is a program developing in Goma. Now I don't know exactly what help might come to you specifically in this refugee camp, but what I do promise you is that I, along with Bryan and a team of people, will go back to America and ride bicycles from Florida to Maine. As we go, we will tell as many people as possible your stories that you are sharing with me now. Know that even right now people in America are praying for you, and they will continue to pray for you. I know you have been through so much, but the one thing that I want to encourage you with is the knowledge that God loves you, and I love you, and there are people in America who love you."

You might call this a "no turning back" point, and that it was. As we have been riding up the coast we have been sharing that story with people and telling them that we are in the process of following through on that promise. Well now we stand before you, 2,000 miles later, having followed through. We didn't give up; we didn't turn back; we made it--on behalf of our sisters.

Forget the riding. The most powerful aspect of this tour manifested itself not through our legs, but instead through our mouths. For we told their stories at a time when our sisters could not. Ignored for over twenty years, it's time the church (us!!!) stands up and does what it is called to do. Not to say that we have done anything special, because we haven't. But what I can say about each member of this tour is that they gave Jesus their five loaves and two fish and let Him do the rest.

As Jon's blog last night was titled, our last day has finally arrived. But when we say last day, what do we mean? What a privilege it has been to have carried our sisters stories for this period of time, but, while the bike tour may be over, their suffering is not. The Congo is still the "rape capital of the world." It is still the most dangerous place in the world to be a female. Hundreds of thousands of girls are still suffering and traumatized, and every hour, 48 women will again be subject to the trauma caused by rape. As for me, this is a big question. Was this bike tour about them or about me? Yes, I am tired. Physically and mentally, I am tired. But so are they. I have to press on, for in my hands and in my heart I hold a treasure more precious than any gem found on this earth: my sister's stories.

Now what about you?