An Unexpected "Journey"

I recently travelled to the US from Uganda to visit Deke, Eli, and Mattea. I thought I was just going to visit my kids in America, but this flight took me on more of journey than I had anticipated….

It began shortly after my arrival at the Entebbe airport. I went through the initial security check that is required upon entering the airport, and as I began to get in line to check my bags, I was instructed to move to the priority line as there was a large group checking bags in the regular line. 

The group consisted of a few dozen people of all ages: preschoolers, teens, young adults, middle age adults, and senior adults. They were obviously African, but I couldn’t figure out from watching them what type of group this was. All I could tell was that they seemed to be less "comfortable" there than the people typically seen in the airport. 

I checked my bags, went through immigration, and proceeded to wait at my gate. I didn’t see the group again before boarding. 

After I boarded and got settled, there were still many vacant seats left on the plane. All of us passengers were becoming more and more hopeful this wouldn't be a full flight. Once everyone on board was settled and it seemed about time to depart, another passenger asked the flight attendant if we would indeed have room to spread out. She said that according to her information, the flight was fully booked. 

Moments later, the entire group from bag check boarded. It was quite obvious that none of them had any idea of the process of boarding a plane. They tried to put 4 kids in 3 seats (because they “fit” ... so why not?), people were trying to decide which seats to take (not according to their tickets), children were not seated with adults, people were reluctant to put their carry-ons in the overhead bins, and even the typically unflappable KLM flight attendants were becoming a little, um, “flapped”.  

I was growing more and more excited that the seat next to me for the long 8+ hour flight to Amsterdam was still empty… until it wasn’t. My seat mate arrived, I said a quick hello, turned aside not really interested in small-talk at the moment, and we took off soon after. I leaned against the window, settled in, and tried to go to sleep. 

There was some moving about and talking amongst the group during the flight, but not a lot. A couple of times, my seat mate got up and talked with someone in the group. 

About an hour before landing, when people were beginning to move about more, I asked my seat mate if she were with the group. She said she was, so I asked what kind of group it was. She said, “It’s a group of refugees from Democratic Republic of Congo being resettled to the US”, and she was their escort. I asked where in the US they were headed, and she said “Atlanta”. I asked what would happen when they arrived. She told me that she wasn’t sure. She just escorts them, turns them over, spends one night, and flies back. 

As I recalled what I had observed of the group, I began to cry. 

That luggage they were checking? All they have left in the world. 

Those preschoolers? They’ll never truly, deeply know their culture - I'm sure their families will celebrate holidays and cook some traditional foods the best they can, but “culture” is far more than that. 

The younger adults? Probably a mix of excitement and also a level of fear. The opportunity can be great, but the hurdles and hardships they must overcome to live in an entirely different culture will likely be a challenge in some ways for the rest of their lives.  

And the older adults? I cried most for them. They know they are leaving their home probably never to return. They have no doubt lost loved ones to violence and/or disease, and many of the ones who remain behind they will never see again. There is no going back to what once was. The dreams of our youth are of prosperous, peaceful, joyful lives - never of losing family, friends, our very country, everything we’ve ever known, and spending our last days in a land where we will never fit in or feel we truly belong. 

I thought about the most heartrending scene of the evening: an older woman who, while in the bag check line, sat down on the luggage cart with her small amount of luggage and quietly traced the logo on the small plastic bag she was carrying. I now know the logo was IOM’s, and I can’t imagine what was going through her mind as she looked at what represented her new opportunity and at the same time a life that she was leaving behind forever. 

I know that some people would say they’re “lucky”, but that’s not the word I would choose. Of course, they are among the very few who are given this type of chance for a new start, but it’s going to be so, so, so hard. East African culture is different beyond explanation from American culture. The contrasting views of family, economics, work, time, food… everything they do will be a challenge. 

I’ve learned living in Uganda for the last 2 years that living day-in and day-out in another culture is exhausting beyond anything I ever imagined. And creating a “new normal” is hard, no matter your reason for living there. 

I feel like immigrating as a refugee is similar to adoption: it’s only a backup plan for when there are no other options. There may be a type of joy in the new start, but no matter how great, that new joy will never remove the old trauma and pain. The dreams of "what might have been" will always be unfulfilled. Even though there are new possibilities on the horizon, much grieving and mourning are appropriate for the losses experienced. 

When we arrived in Amsterdam, the group had extra security checks, so they were not on my flight to Atlanta. I do wish I could have been present when they landed in the US, but I don’t know if I could have survived that with any semblance of composure. And if that is how I felt as a mere observer, I can’t imagine the intense mix of emotions each of the refugees must have been experiencing. 

Sunrise through the window at my gate at Amsterdam Airport Schiphol as I waited to board that blue plane for my next flight to Atlanta.

They’ve been in the US almost a month now... 

Please join me in praying for them: that God would meet them in their sadness and also in their joy, that they would see Him through His people that He will put in their paths, for the gospel to be shared with them and for salvation for many, for true and eternal friendships to form with Americans who will love and help and appreciate and learn from their experiences and wisdom, for ease of adjustment, for peace in the days to come, that they’ll be able to *stay warm* (yes, that’s a real issue even for those of us returning to America - we get so stinkin’ cold!), that they will be able to hold on to comforting traditions and as many of their own ways of doing things as possible, that they will be able to be a blessing to those around them... and that they will see and be reassured that they, too, have much to offer America. 

I was in such desperate need of that trip back to my people and my homeland - even for a brief visit - and I can't imagine knowing I would never ever be able to do that again: never to see the ones I love, never to have the feeling of being "at home". I'm thankful God had much more planned for my trip than I ever dreamed and opened my heart even more to His love for all people. 

If you’d like to join me in praying for refugees during this season, but aren’t really sure how to pray, The Immigration Project has a wonderful prayer calendar resource with a short but important prayer focus for each day through Dec. 25th. 

#Prayforrefugees

"The Bag"

On Monday, December 19^th, we departed from Atlanta, Georgia on our way to Entebbe, Uganda with seven people, twenty-four checked bags/bins (three of which were overweight), six carry-on bags, one guitar, six backpacks, and The Bag. The Bag contained: passports, birth certificates, marriage license, social security cards, checkbooks and banking information, adoption papers, dental records, yellow fever immunization cards, $4,350 in cash to pay a few months’ rent and to buy some furniture once we found a house, Michael’s iPad, his expensive prescription sunglasses, iPhone and iPad charging cables, three of Michael's favorite pens, his hair gel, and a HP laptop. Michael guarded The Bag with his life, and it never left his side.

We arrived at the Entebbe International Airport after 19+ hours of travel on Tuesday, December 20^th at 10:45 PM thankful that God had gotten us there safely. We were relieved to finally be there and were all ready to go through immigration, collect our bags, and be on our way to Jinja.

Going through immigration was nothing special and rather uneventful. “Hello.” “What brings you to Uganda?” “How long do you plan to be here?” “Place your fingers here for fingerprinting.” “That will be $350 for seven visas.” It was simple and easy – nothing out of the ordinary. We then walked into the next room to collect all of our luggage and bins from the large conveyor. Michael, Wyatt, and Eli all fanned out to cover more area while collecting the bags, Melinda gathered luggage carts, and Mattea, TJ, and Brielle guarded all the carry-on bags and backpacks including The Bag.

After gathering all of our 24 bags/bins (some were busted open, but at least they all arrived!), we exited the airport with all of our belongings, met up with our friends Kelly and Danlyn who so kindly came with driver Andrew to pick us up, and walked out to the bus and van which were waiting for us in the parking lot. Feeling like the most difficult part was behind us, we were all finally beginning to relax as we started loading bins into the bus and suitcases into the van. Michael went onto the bus and sat The Bag down in a seat so it wouldn't get mixed up with anything else and because he thought it would be safer there than outside the bus. Then he went back out to help people continue loading everything so we could be on our way to Jinja.

While everyone's attention was on loading all the luggage, someone slipped onto the bus unnoticed where The Bag was sitting and stole it. Apparently, we had been targeted while in the airport and someone had been watching us and waiting for an opportunity to rob us. Whoever it was simply walked onto the bus and took The Bag from where it sat even though someone with our group was on there, but none of us had any clue that anything had happened.

When we were almost finished loading the luggage, Michael went to check on The Bag and didn't see it. At first he thought one of us must have moved it so he came back out and asked everyone. Once we all realized that none of us had seen or moved it and that it had quite possibly been stolen, we all started praying and searching frantically. Michael began pacing back and forth with his hands clasped on top of his head trying to remember any other details or who had been near the bus. Wyatt and Eli went back into the Airport to double check just in case their dad had only thought he sat it on the bus but it had really just fallen onto the ground somewhere along the way. Everyone who was still out near the bus was searching on, around, and under it. After about 45 minutes, we all agreed that the bag must've been stolen, and we all were just praying that God would bring it back to us. We talked with some of the police at the airport and gave them Kelly’s phone number just in case someone around happened to “find it”.

Around 1:00 AM on Wednesday morning we left the airport, and Michael began damage control on the bus ride to Jinja: one international phone call to his brother, another to the bank - being told that there was nothing that he could really do other than wait and see what happens after being on hold for 15 minutes. All of us were still praying that we would either find The Bag on the bus or van when we got to the guest house or that God would get the bag back to us somehow but most importantly that God would be glorified whatever the outcome.

A little after 3:00 AM, we arrived at the guest house in Jinja and started unloading the luggage, unsure about what the next few days held for us in terms of reporting all of these things stolen and starting work on getting them replaced. Even after all the stress and craziness of the last 24 hours, we agreed that we were all happy to finally be in Uganda, and that that was a good thing since with no passports we couldn’t leave anyway!  After everything was unloaded and stored where it needed to be, we all got ready for bed and tried to get as much sleep as we could before the rest of that day, as it was already 4:00 AM.

We got up around 7:00 AM from the little (if any) sleep we were able to get and began getting ready for the day, heading downstairs to get breakfast, and starting to make a plan for how to recover the lost items.

About mid-morning, Michael and Keith Coggin headed to the local police station to file a police report so our passports could be reported to the U.S. Embassy in Kampala as stolen and we could begin the process to obtain new ones. Meanwhile, Mark Guthrie (the In-Country Director of Amazima) was on his way to Entebbe to pick up his older son from the airport, so he offered to check and see if there was any new information from the police there.

Around lunchtime, Lisa Coggin came over to the guest house to get the rest of the family and take us into town to a popular local restaurant called The Keep for lunch, and Michael and Keith met us there. Before we ate we all prayed for God to bless the food in front of us and to bring The Bag back to us. After praying, we all began talking about God's sovereignty and how the bag wasn't really lost because God knew exactly where it was and that was exactly where He wanted it to be.

Within a few minutes after praying, Keith got a call from Kelly Miller (Dean of Student Life at The Amazima School who had picked us up at the airport the night before). He quickly handed the phone to Michael which made the rest of us perk up. “Did they find The Bag?”, we wondered. Michael exhaled with relief. “Thank you, Jesus, thank you!” After many thanks and nearing tears Michael hung up the phone and told us that they had found the bag and that it appeared as if most, if not all of the important documents where inside it.

While on their way to Entebbe, Mark's two youngest sons wanted to stop and eat lunch at a new Pizza Hut they saw on the way. While they were there, a man sitting near them got up to leave and accidentally left his phone on the table. A few seconds later he returned to the table to get his phone, but it was gone. He called the manager over to ask about the phone, but she said she hadn't seen it and that it may have been stolen. Mark overheard their conversation and remarked that one of his friends had a bag stolen at the airport the night before. The manager asked if Mark could describe the bag for her, “It's a gray laptop bag with a long black strap with the initials MEP on it.” She then pulled a bag from behind the counter. Mark immediately recognized it from the description - it was The Bag! The manager said someone had found it and brought it to them so she had gathered the whole staff together that morning and they prayed that God would somehow get the bag back to its owner. Mark said from what he could tell, it looked like most of the documents were still in The Bag, although the money and laptop were gone.

As we listened to the story of how God had caused Mark and his family to make an unplanned stop at the very place where the bag was waiting, we were in awe of how God had shown His sovereignty in such a dramatic way. Many people knew that our bag had been stolen, and each person we shared the recovery story with was amazed and could do nothing but praise God and recognize that He alone was able to do such a thing.

The bag was given to the Coggins and returned to us on Thursday, and Michael was finally able to look through it and find out exactly what was left. As we sat at the restaurant where we were having lunch, Michael went through all the contents of the bag. Inside were all of our social security cards, birth certificates, passports, adoption papers, dental records, marriage license, checkbooks, yellow fever cards, and the iPad. It was obvious that they had looked through everything in the binder because they had moved many of the papers to different envelopes and into different page protectors. It would have been extremely difficult and expensive to get all of those documents replaced, so it was a relief to see that they were all still there. The money envelope had been ripped open, emptied, and put back into the bag. The checkbooks were moved into a different pocket. The iPad was still inside its pocket although the glasses were gone from that same pocket. In addition to the computer and cash, all of Michael's iPhone and iPad charging cables had been taken. And unfortunately, Michael’s hair gel and favorite pens were also gone (and if you know Michael and the rest of us well, you can imagine how much fun we’ve had with his “devastating” loss over the last few days).

When we returned to our room at the guest house on Thursday after receiving the bag back, we noticed a sign in the kitchen area which said “Expect a miracle”. We hadn’t seen it before, but it was just another confirmation that what had happened was no less than a true miracle. We shared with a couple of the housekeepers, and they told us that they had heard about our stolen bag and that they had prayed with their mom and the rest of their family that it would be found. They were thankful that the bag had been returned and were astounded at the way in which God had done it. God continues to show His sovereignty and goodness to so many – and that is exactly what we prayed would happen! We feel so privileged to be a part of this story that people are sharing with one another that is bringing God glory each time it is told.

Even though we are not without loss, we praise God for the fact that He not only returned so many of our things to us, but that He did it in such a miraculous way and gave us a wonderful testimony of His goodness that we can share with others!

We’ve prayed for the thieves and their accomplices and trust that God will be glorified, and I hope that someday we will get to see how God has used the entire situation to show Himself to many. We know that it was and is God’s money and that He can do with it whatever he chooses. We are still out the $4,000 that we need in order to rent our own home and get some furniture, and we are praying that the Lord will provide it soon. We don’t understand why God would choose for us to be robbed, but we know He has a plan - as He ALWAYS does - and we know we have only just begun to see what God will do with this crazy story about The Bag! We are excited to see what God has in store!

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We know God will provide what we need in order to have a home here in Jinja and that He will do it all in His own way and in His timing. We aren't sure at this point exactly how He plans to do it, but if you feel that you would like to be a part of it and would like to make a donation to us, you may donate online at http://ssmfi.org/missionary/michael-and-melinda-pierce/ ~ Thank you! 


Guest post by Eli Pierce


UPDATE 01/01/2017:
As of today, GOD has more than replaced all the money that was stolen! And more importantly, GOD has been glorified by the telling and retelling of this story many times over. Each time people hear it, they know that only God could do such a thing. We are thankful that God chose to allow us to be a part of this great story, and we look forward to sharing His faithfulness throughtout the years to come!