Wednesday, April 12, 2006

break

i watched a movie entitled “invisible children” last evening. it was a documentary about the children of northern uganda who travel to the city each night to sleep. they are afraid of staying in their villages because the rebels have been known to abduct and abuse these children at night for their own purposes. in fact, many of these children have escaped previous abductions and not only hide during the night, but also hide during the day.

the entire movie had a great impact on me. but there was one scene in particular that captured my heart. there were a couple of boys (brothers) who were being interviewed. they were tired of the struggle. so much so that they professed their desire for death, rather than life under the current conditions. they would rather be dead. (i still need time to process that.) perhaps, they felt dead already.

and as they continued to reflect on their short lives, they were asked about their older brother. he had also been abducted, but was unable to escape, and was ultimately killed by the militia. one of the boys began to answer, keeping his composure, and looked primarily to the future. he talked about the possibility of a reencounter with his brother – perhaps in heaven. and he continued to keep his composure.

he had learned very quickly that the militia had no tolerance for emotional children who thought of home or family. in fact, often these children were made an example of and were killed in front of the others. jacob’s brother could have been one of those children. and jacob was expected to express nothing. he was not allowed to enter into his pain. so he kept his composure.

and then, he broke. and he wept. he wept like no one i have ever seen before.

i just sat there and watched jacob weep. there was nothing that i could do. i wanted to hold him. i wanted to sit with him. i wanted to cry with him. but most of all, i wanted to mirror him. i wanted to be able to burst – to allow myself to feel. i wanted to be uninhibited. i wanted to be authentic. i wanted to be pure.

jacob taught me an important lesson. he taught me that i don’t allow myself to break often enough. i need to break for others. and i need to break for myself. i want to learn how to do that. thank you jacob.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Yes, there is community in "broken" bread and the shared cup. It is what binds us...yet so often we try to eat and drink the pain alone. Thank you for sharing your cup with us. It is the eating, the drinking, and the sharing that gives us strength to face whatever tomorrow brings.