Where do I begin? We arrived late in the afternoon to a rather non-descript area in a small village. Lined up outside the main building were two rows of chairs facing each other. We settled ourselves and the seats filled with people ranging in age from the elderly to a baby. After a brief history of the genocide and how the reconciliation villages came to be, a perpetrator shared his story.
Fredrick had been indoctrinated as a child in school that the Tutsis were bad. At the age of 24, after a "practice" genocide two years earlier in which it was determined that it could be done, he joined others in slaughtering people. Friends, family, strangers... it didn't seem to matter. After 100 days of slaughter on a grand scale, it was over. He spent a number of years in prison. While in prison, the Rwandan Prison Fellowship pastors (2), began preaching forgiveness. God moved in this man's life as he realized what horrible things he had done. These pastors gave him the opportunity to face those he hurt and ask them to forgive him. He said it was incredibly hard. But he was genuinely sorry and sought their forgiveness.
The next speaker was Janet, a survivor. She told of all of her family being killed and how she hidden in an outhouse for two months to stay alive. God's grace allowed her to forgive those who had left her an orphan at sixteen. She, too, had no desire to forgive, but God softened her heart.
Those who were in prison for atrocities, were given a second chance if they chose to ask for forgiveness... but they had nowhere to go once they were released. The pastors came up with the idea of a village where the two could live together and heal from their past. Today there are eight such villages in Rwanda. This one had over three hundred and fifty residents that live together in peace and harmony, raising their children to know and understand the truth.
I try to describe it, but there are really no words to give you the feel of that place. It was peaceful, quiet, respectful. There was almost a reverence that hovered over it, as if it were a living memorial to the power of almighty God. A God who can heal anything, even scars that have sliced the heart wide open. The Genocide Museum was factual, graphic and painful, but this was... was as close to heaven as I may get on this earth. The sincerity, almost purity of the people was... I don't know, indescribable. I have never instantly bonded with anyone as I did there. We spoke in our own languages, hugged, pulled each other close.........she was old and fragile, dressed in brightly colored African fare, and kept saying "thank you" over and over. I had done nothing but come and listen.
I have discovered on this trip that I needn't do big things in my life to change the world. I just need to be present, willing, and acknowledge I can do nothing on my own. If I take that wisdom home and remember it, God will be able to use me in ways I never envisioned. Life will be filled with surprises every day, for everyone I come in contact with, but most especially for me.
We are off to see fifty plus young ladies be baptized, then a couple of meetings and stops before heading to the airport. I suspect I will sleep like a log this time. See you on the other side!
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