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In a Big Country

curtWajoBoy

We’re away from the world of internet for most of the next week.  DeDe and I are traveling in northern Uganda with a Kentucky Baptist Disaster Relief team.

They are representing Baptist Global Response and learning how we can touch the needs of refugees from South Sudan and Democratic Congo.

You can follow our journey here at http://www.creekbank.net/blog   as well as Twitter (#UpCountry) and Facebook (curtiles).

 

IN A BIG COUNTRY

Have you ever had a song get stuck in your head.

When one does, it plays over and over again like a MP3 player stuck on repeat.

I’ve got a song stuck in my head.

Let me rephrase that:  this one’s stuck in my heart.

And it’s been lodged there for several years.

I realized this month why it won’t go away.

 

It’s my Africa song.

Rather, it’s my Africa refugee song.

It’s called “In A Big Country.”

It was released by an UK band with the same name.

It’s what they call a one hit wonder.

My Internet research has revealed little of what the song means.

That allows me to state it’s written for refugees.

Especially the children and teens who are now exiled from South Sudan

Yesterday, a Dinka elder waved his hand at the dozens of young boys surrounding us.

“You can see that we are a young nation.

We must help these children and young men.”

With that in mind, here are the faces of the youth of this youthful country.

We call it South Sudan.

I’ve come to believe we didn’t choose it as our country.

It chose us.

And that’s not a complaint.

 

In a Big Country.

The faces of those we must help.

Pray for, present the gospel to, and disciple.

 

This Big Country is not an easy place.

Not a journey for the faint of heart.

 

But if you want to see this Big Country

(which is bleeding profusely and much of the blood has seeped into South Sudan.)

Come join us.

In A Big Country

 

 

Stay alive.

 

I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered

But you can’t stay here with every single hope you had shattered.
I’m not expecting to grow flowers in the desert,

But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime..

So take that look out of here, it doesn’t fit you.

Because it’s happened doesn’t mean you’ve been discarded.

Pull up your head off the floor, come up screaming.

Cry out for everything you ever might have wanted.

I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered

 

But you can’t stay here with every single hope you had shattered.

 

I’m not expecting to grow flowers in the desert,

But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime..

About Curt Iles

I write to have influence and impact through well-told stories of my Louisiana and African sojourn.

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