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BY MELISSA LAUBER
UMCONNECTION STAFF

They’re called the invisible children – a generation of young boys and girls in Uganda who were torn from their villages, sometimes forced to murder their own parents, brainwashed and used as pack animals and bullet fodder for the Lord’s Resistance Army of Joseph Kony.

When the Rev. Stan and Michelle Cardwell recently visited Uganda they were met by many children, some of whom served as child soldiers in an atrocious civil war. The young people they met taught them about hope, healing and promise of blessing.

Lazarus, who also calls himself Jo, lived amid these atrocities. It’s been about two years since he lived on the streets, eating out of garbage pits, after escaping Kony’s terrorist army; about a year since he let himself smile. This fall, if all goes according to plan, teenager Jo will join the Cardwell family in Bel Air, welcomed as a blessing from God.

The Rev. Stan Cardwell and his wife Michelle marvel at the whirlwind of events that have led them to try to become Jo’s legal guardians.

In early May, following what felt like nudges from God, they accompanied a friend’s team on a ministry trip to Uganda. The couple knew next to nothing about the civil war that had ravaged the east-African nation for 23 years. They had never heard of Joseph Kony, who Cardwell now describes as a witch doctor, political figure, manipulator, terrorist and abductor of children.

Kony, who led a campaign to establish a theocratic government in Uganda, is now in exile along the Congo-Sudanese Border. The United Nations estimates that his rebellion as leader of the Lord’s Army from 1987 to 2006 involved the abduction of an estimated 30,000 children, who made up 90 percent of the army and the displacement of more than 1.7 million Ugandans.

The atrocities these young people witnessed, and in some cases, committed are bound to scar the soul, Cardwell said. Just beginning to understand all they have lived through is daunting.

But the Cardwells have done so because of their understanding of faith.

“God doesn’t call us to love the whole world, that’s his job. But God does call us to love a slice of the world,” said Cardwell. “Uganda is our slice.”

Such love, he admits, can be overwhelming. “It’s risky,” he said. “But God doesn’t call us to love abstractly. God calls us simply to love, and love is messy.”

In Mbale and Kitgum, which at times resembled the Wild West, the Cardwells said, they spoke with the former child soldiers and discovered many of them had moved past sheer survival instincts and were now searching for some kind of love, trust and purpose.

In Mbale, “where my heart is,” said Michelle, they walked with the boys to church and worshipped with them. “They would teach us their music and some songs and dance and we would teach them ours. Our team would teach them from the Bible about love and the Father’s forgiveness, because a lot of them have a lot of guilt about what they were forced to do in the war, and they all still have nightmares every night.”

One day, Simon Peter, 17, approached Cardwell carrying a King James Version of the Bible. “I don’t understand this passage,” he told him. Cardwell, who had an easier to understand Today’s New International Version, suggested they trade Bibles.

The passage Simon Peter was having trouble with also stirred Cardwell’s heart – Psalm 68, which reads, in part, “A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows is God in his holy habitation. God sets the lonely, the solitary, in families.”

Both Stan and Michelle Cardwell had, over the years, toyed with the idea of adopting a child. But on this trip, the idea of God creating families spoke to them both, and each also knew exactly the person to whom God had led them.

Jo, a member of the Acholi tribe, took Michelle into town to buy souvenirs. On the second night of their visit, he told them his story. Several of the details were vague. He said just enough, making sure to not displease us,” Michelle said.

Both she and Stan hold Jo’s story as something sacred, letting the full truth unfold as trust is built. Both are also aware that someone who lived as a rebel soldier at the age of 5 is bound to have post traumatic stress disorder or other trauma-related issues.

But they don’t see a victim when they look at Jo. They see a child of God – someone God has specifically placed in their path to love.

When the Cardwells came home to Bel Air, their three children, ages 14, 15 and 17, shared their excitement. Daniel, their son, volunteered to share his room with Jo. They wonder about this new member of their family, who may arrive as early as October.

“I wonder if he’s a picky eater and how he’s going to do at night. He might have nightmares, I could comfort him,” said Daniel, who is looking forward to teaching Jo something about American sports and American girls.

They exchange e-mails now. “He’s a cool guy,” Daniel concludes.

The immediacy of e-mail is something that has surprised the Cardwells. Since returning May 13, they receive regular e-mail from more than a dozen young men in Uganda, all seeking their attention and care.

They’re polite and gentle, and very fragile and needy, said Michelle. “They’re child-men,” Stan said.

Together, they’re all learning where to set boundaries, careful not to promise the boys more than they can deliver.

“No longer do we love Africa abstractly,” said Cardwell. The words of young men show up on their computer screens and in their memories every day. “Our hearts break daily because there’s so much more that we want to give them.” But the couple settles for giving “love, encouragement, words from Scripture and advice, trying to be their mother and father from afar, helping them hold onto the promises of God, even in the midst of very difficult situations.”

They also encourage people to sponsor the boys through programs like Active Blessing.

On Father’s Day, 14 families from Bel Air UMC, sponsored young men from Uganda after Stan preached, sharing their story.

To the Cardwells, this whole experience feels like blessing. “It’s a level of trust with God that we’ve never had. We’re using our daughter’s college savings to bring Jo to America,” they said. “It’s one more step in the journey.”

While they were in Uganda, Cardwell and another father, Jay, laid their hands on many of the former child soldiers and offered them a father’s blessing, They told them that they were loved. He assured them that God had a special destiny in mind for them. And he watched as the invisible children were made visible in light of God’s love.