25 years ago on the 11th of September I flew into the unknown. An unknown country, unknown relationships, unknown outcomes, and, to be honest, an unknown purpose. At the invite of a Rwandan Anglican, Louis Muvunyi, studying in Scotland, I had accepted a request to travel to Rwanda. The purpose of the visit seemed unclear to me although for Louis it revolved around church leaders’ training. But for me my thoughts were all about the destination, not the purpose. It was Rwanda and in that one word my childhood dreams of Africa and its wonderful animals had been submerged under the emerging consciousness of a genocide that’s scale, brutality and consequences had barely whispered past my awareness prior to meeting Louis.
It would be some days before the personal impact of the genocide would take effect – my diary would later reflect my initial wonder at an Africa turning green as we flew over desert, then savannah, then forest, my early amazement at the hospitality of the Rwandans I met, the unfamiliarity of the food, a sun so high in the sky my shadow disappeared, the African rhythm that broke out in every meeting and opportunity.
The first sentence I wrote in my diary, at 9.25pm the day after arriving reflected all that wonder – ‘This has been such an amazing day – we (myself and the bible college student accompanying me) have both been overwhelmed by the people, the hospitality. They are such a humble, beautiful people.’ I suppose by then my own destiny was sealed – a sense of God’s call and a deep love and respect for the people forming against a backdrop of unfamiliarity and novelty.
Much of the trip was taken up with preaching and teaching. But with the emotional shredding that understanding of the genocide entailed I found myself turning also towards a pursuit of God’s heart for the broken and bewildered survivors, and, although we have never lost that calling to encourage and train the church, ultimately God’s passion for justice and compassion towards the poor would be what prevailed. It would be the difficulties survivors faced that would birth Comfort Rwanda (as Comfort International was first begun). It would be their utterly heart-wrenching stories that would brand my heart for ever. It would be their courage and pain that would lay down a foundation for the path Comfort International would travel.
Those unchartered, wide-eyed, days 25 years ago have never left me. Not as a two-dimensional memory of experiences, but of the firmness of a people, a call, a vision gripping the heart and immersing the soul in the love and brokenness, the dignity and hopelessness, the poverty yet richness that would shape my life to come and bring me alongside a Comfort International family of people that would reflect the very best of the human heart in the midst of the very darkest of human experience.
