Nikki there are so many things to say...first of all I will miss my best friend you were always there for me when I needed you. When I would fight with Zak or get upset about work or life you were the one I texted and you were the one that came over to my house and loved on me. I will miss our talks in my garage, our date nights, your amazing smile and kind heart. I know one day we will be together again, I just hope you are there to greet me when it is my time. I have really gotten to know your family threw this event and I want you to know they are amazing. Your sister Lilian has been my savior and I dont think I could have gotten threw this without her. Please be with me for the rest of my years for I will always keep you close. And everytime I see the green pants that were too short I will laugh...And everytime I can steal someones pen I will do it just for you. Thank you for being my angel and thank you for changing my life.....
Love always your wifey
.....Missing someone gets easier every day because even though it's one day further from the last time you saw each other, it's one day closer to the next time you will....
I went shopping with my mom the other day and learned of this amazing but heartbreaking story. I wanted to share with you......
This is the story of a single day.
A single, shape-shifting, life-changing, perspective-altering, never.be.the.same.kinda day.
I originally went to Africa to put shoes on kid’s feet.
My friend Blake had built a company grounded in giving and there I was, on the ground, giving.
After the shoe drop, I wandered. Sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, sometimes safe, sometimes not. I wanted into the wild.
And wild it was.
I yelled at thieving, conniving monkeys and saw Nelson Mandela yell from stage.
Cried in refugee camps and laughed during moonlight tribal dances.
Saw a baby born and parents buried.
Went south and climbed a cliff to scream from the point of the world and made my way north to see Invisible children become visible in Uganda.
Slept in mansions and huts, ate porridge and gazelle, swam with otters, fended off pickpockets and rarely showered, stopped, or stood still.
For two months, there was death and destruction, failure and fear, adventure.wonder. motion.
But all around was a pervasive hope moving steadily toward what could only be described as progress. Stories of change everywhere to be found.
Until I walked into the chaos of Congo.
The so-called Democratic Republic of Congo, home to one of histories deadliest wars.
Strange circumstances led me to her doorstop, but there I stood ready to see what she might show my western eyes.
The following is what they saw.
I hope to one day tell the story in full, but for now peek into this single chapter.
As I’m writing you, the sun is setting just over the central lake in Goma.
My computer screen blurs.
I cannot help the weeping that hinders my vision and falls on the keys even as I type these words.
Bob Dylan said something along the lines of
“People tell me it’s a sin, to hold so much pain and hurt within.”
I suppose I’m wondering if they were right.
We originally planned to spend the day tracking down the rebel leader Nkunda.
We had arranged an armed escort to take us into his territory.
However after speaking with a Congolese military journalist who had just returned from that area, we decided to postpone the trip.
He said the upcoming Peace Conference had infuriated Nkunda’s rebels and they had gone mad with drugs.
He told us it didn’t matter who guarded us, the sight of our white skin would enrage them and they would fire. “Another day, but not this day” was his advice. We thought it prudent to take note.
Instead, we caught back up with the 5 boys that had just escaped
two of the rebel armies.
Busco
Bahati
Serungendo
Claude
Sadiki
We found them in a filthy cell at a military encampment called Titu. A prison.
The boys had been forced to spend the entire night standing up straight. None of them were over 15 years old. None had ever chosen to fight. Still, they were being treated as Enemies of the State.
Yesterday each of them were giving praise to God for their rescue from the rebels. Now they’re wondering if the National Army is any different. It’s a common problem here in Congo. There is more sexual violence here than anywhere in the world, but no signs that any one of the armies are any better or worse than another. All the soldiers rape. All the soldiers pillage.
All the people suffer. There is no refuge. Not the victim-side-of-a-gun anyway. As we dug further, we discovered that the boys hadn’t eaten in 48 hours and had been beaten all night long. The soldiers forced them to blow up their cheeks and then punch them in. These boys, who have already been through a deep kind of hell, were trembling with fear. Lindsay convinced me and we went to buy them food, clothes, shoes, soap and a toothbrush. Bare materials that grant us small dignity. They fell on the gifts like wolves, smiling, laughing and thanking God. The bones of their ribs showed through their rags as they ate.
THE BANANAS IN THEIR HANDS WERE THE FIRST NON-ROTTEN FOOD THEY HAD EATEN SINCE THEY HAD LAST SEEN THEIR FAMILIES.
While we waited for the UN, who had promised to rescue them, we spoke with the boys individually. Each had been abducted. Plucked from their homes, schools or farms. Each had been tied up and beaten. Each had been forced to kill. Sadiki had been dropped in a hole, deep in the ground. Nearly 300 boys were forced into the ditch for 20 hours of the day. They sat and slept in their own excrement. Slowly, they awaited the other 4 hours of the day when they found themselves tortured and trained to fire a gun. Only to be dropped again into their own filth.Many of us have heard the stories of child-soldiers. Invisible Children and stories such as A Long Way Gone have been groundbreaking in granting us glimpses into their tortured lives.
I had heard.known.cared. I had even reacted and raged. But when these boys told me of the whistle blowers, the horror grew feet and walked within me. Captured by Nkunda’s rebel army, the boys not big enough to hold a gun are given merely a whistle and put on the front lines of battle.
THEIR SOLE DUTY IS TO MAKE ENOUGH NOISE TO SCARE THE ENEMY AND THEN TO RECEIVE – WITH THEIR BODIES – THE FIRST ROUND OF BULLETS.
Lines of boys fall as nothing more than a temporary barricade.
Those who try to flee are shot at from behind. The soldiers call it “encouragement” to be brave. Without a gun to protect themselves, the smallest boys are placed between the crossfire of two armies – forces fighting for reasons far beyond their ability to understand.
WITH FALLING WHISTLES, THEIR ONLY
CHOICE IS TO FEIGN DEATH OR FACE IT.
Dwindle to some soldiers petty fire. His only wish is to go back to his farm, because he’s sure his parents need his help to raise the family. For quite some time, they have believed him dead.
As with us all, the boys gained freedom from sharing their stories. Tears turned to smiles and smiles to laughter. Little in our respective lives was similar, but storytelling is strange and powerful. Surrounded by angry and onlooking guards, we found some small comfort in one another.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE WE DOING HERE?”
Am I even capable of doing anything to help such madness?
The only Rwandan of the group was sure that he had fought against Nkunda’s army - the very same rebels that had abducted these Congolese boys. I asked if that made them enemies. He looked at me, laughed, and kissed Sadiki. “We are only boys. How can we be enemies?”
As the day turned to dusk, we all grew worried the UN wouldn’t come to pick them up. Their hands and eyes betrayed their dread at staying yet another night, standing among these merciless guards. We started making some calls only to discover that the UN had passed
responsibility of the children to Unicef, who had then been turned away at the prison 4 times. The soldiers wanted the children to stay for another night of entertainment and weren’t prepared to have them released.
Lindsay hit the phonebook for some frantic politicking with our newfound connections. Finally both the Unicef and the UN trucks were admitted inside the Titu compound. I’m not sure what changed their decision. But I suppose I don’t care. We quickly loaded the boys into the trucks as the soldiers prepared to block our exit. Just because the trucks had gained entrance didn’t mean they’d allow them to leave.
Halfway through the camp they demanded the truck stop and empty out. Again, politicking and protesting with all the Americana authoritarian aristocratic animated attitude we could muster, the boys were finally allowed back in the truck and set free.
Weeks ago they had each planned out their escape. Praying they’d be rescued from their mad dash out of Nkunda’s camp. When the Congolese army picked them up, they thought their dreams achieved - only to be corrected by dark fists in the night. As we watched them leave Titu, we knew we were seeing their escape finally fulfilled.
The burden of their lives weighs heavy on me tonight. I close my eyes and see whistles falling from palm sized hands. And I haven’t the damndest idea what to do about it. I have to share their story. But haven’t a clue how to pull it off. I know simply that this cannot, cannot go on. And I know we’re gonna need a lot of help. From a lot of you. There is a Peace Conference starting tomorrow, regarding decades of war and millions slaughtered. Yet I’ve seen no other westerners. No American media. No Muzungus. Nothin. We are the land of the free and the brave and seem not to notice that the brave here have never been free.
But today was a start. Five are safe at least. It’s a beginning I suppose. Responding to such a story is never easy. We have struggled ourselves. But take a lesson from the Titu boys - share. Tell their story. The violence continues in Congo,but at this very moment,there are Congolese artists who are pulling former child soldiers into a creative community of rehabilitation.They call themselves YOLE as a rallying cry for peace.
They are our partners and our inspiration. Around the world, the sound of a whistle demands STOP. PAY ATTENTION. It is the Symbol of Justice.
Ask the same of your friends. Be a whistleblower.
100% of the procededs go to help these children go to http://www.fallingwhistles.com
Well I finally did it....after two years of school I graduated with my Associates. Even though I still have some more schooling to do before I am done, I feel great! I want to thank my mom and my husband for all their help and support. I could have never done it without them. I love you guys so much, thank you for helping me fulfill my dreams. I am taking a break for a while, I need to work and help my family get caught up. I am working at Ogden Regional in the lab and I really like it. I love working in the hospital its exactly where I want to work. I cant wait to go back and completely finish, until then I will enjoy my job and learn everything that I can.
I turned 26 on May 16th, and the night before we had the funnest 80s theme birthday party for me. My friend Cassie was so wonderful and spoiled me. After a long night of drinking and laughing a HUGE cake fight started (Thanks for Camile). It was probably one of the funnest things I have ever done. My house was trashed, in fact trashed is a understatement haha. I am still finding cake after 3 days. And of course my friends are so amazing that they stayed until 2:30 in the morning to help me clean it. When I say clean I mean the way drunk people would clean lol, but its the thought that counts. The next day Cassie, Camile, and Ashley took me and Zak out to breakfast. And my parents watched the girls. I am so lucky to have the friends and family that I have. I love you guys so much, thanks for giving me one of the best birthdays of my life. I will NEVER forget that night :)
Today Zak got laid off for the third time in the past year, we have had such a struggle with the health of one of our twins and the economy. I had a breakdown and didnt know how I was going to even get gas in my car. Someone did such an amazing selfless act. My mom called me to tell me that someone had left an envelope for me at her house and to come and pick it up. When I got there and opened it, it was full of money. My mom refuses to tell me who did this amazing thing. But deep down I know who it was. I am so blessed to have someone who loves me this much, and honestly never thought I deserved it. Its in times like this when you see who really loves you, and will be there in hard times. Even though this person says they didnt do it, I just know they did. And I love you for it! They knew that I would never except this money from them, so they went about it in a way that could never come back to them. God sees these wonderful things you always do, and sees what a wonderful person you are. No matter what anyone ever tells you, you are WONDERFUL. And you deserve nothing but the best in life......
We took the girls to the Tree House and they loved it...It was a blast, I have to tell this funny story. So we got the girls on the little fire truck with their hats and some kid around 7 decided he wanted to get on. My little 20 pound Ady had something else in mind. She pushed this kid like nothing haha. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen, this kid looked at her in shock. With our luck Zak snapped the picture of Ady and this little boys face PRICELESS!!! I love my family, we have so much fun together.
Happy birthday my love....you are such an amazing man. I am so very lucky to have you and I love you so much. You are such a great dad and my girls absolutely adore you. We have been through so much the past couple years and I am so glad we have fought together to make it. I am looking forward to spending the rest of your birthdays together.
Love, Devotion, and Eternity
HaPpY BiRtHdAy My BeAuTiFuL GiRlS
On August 23 2007, my twins Adyson and Tyler were born at 27 weeks. Adyson was 1 pound 5 ounces and Tyler was 2 pounds 7 ounces. They spent 3 months in the NICU and both came home on oxygen and heart monitors. For the next year we had many hospital and doctor visits. On August 23 2008, their first birthday Adyson was in the hospital. They thought that she had Luekemia, thankfully she was clear and only had puemonia. After a week in the hospital we were ready for a better year. This last year for my girls has been much better, aside from the one surgery Adyson had to have. We have reached August 23 2009 and no hospitals :) We threw a huge party in the back yard. We rented a huge slide/bounce house. So many friends and family came to support this event. We love and appreciate all of you.
Zak and I met in December of 2004, I was working at a gas station and all the sudden I looked up there was the sexiest man I had ever seen. I knew right when I seen him I had to know him. I rang him up at the register and we kept eye contact while he got into the car with his friends. I kept thinking to myself get back in here and ask for my number. But he drove off...everyday I would look for him to come back in. And from what he said he couldnt sleep the night he just drove off, he knew that he should have asked me out. A week later he came back in, I walked over to him and said so when are you going to take me out. He smiled and said how about Friday, apparently he was coming in to ask me out and I beat him to it. He moved in with me three weeks later. I had never believed in love at first sight until I met Zak, but that is the only way I can describe what we both felt the moment we made eye contact. We got married Oct 31, 2006 and I am more in love with him now then ever.
