KISSES FROM KATIE by Katie Davis - Read Chapter 1

8/6/2019 KISSES FROM KATIE by Katie Davis - Read Chapter 1

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Howard Books

A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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New York, NY 10020

Copyright 2011 by Katie Davis

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form

whatsoever. For information address Howard Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Davis, Katie.

Kisses from Katie / Katie Davis, with Beth Clark.

p. cm.

1. Davis, Katie, 1988- 2. OrphansServices forUganda. 3. OrphansUganda

Social conditions. 4. OrphanagesUnganda. 5. Church work with orphansUganda.

6. Social work with childrenUganda. I. Clark, Beth, 1967 II. Title.

HV1347.D38 2011

362.73092dc22 2011011683

[B]

ISBN 978-1-4516-1206-6

ISBN 978-1-4516-1210-3 (ebook)

All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New

International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. Used by

permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. Scripture quo-

tations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980,

1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations

marked THE MESSAGE are taken from THE MESSAGE. Copyright by Eugene H. Peter-

son, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

6 x 9 Kisses Katie 4p-dm.indd 4 6/29/11 3:57 PM


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1Falling in Lovewith a Country

Soeties it hits e like a brick to the head: My lie is kind o in-

sane. I a twenty-two years old; I have ourteen children, eleven

o who are currently being hoeschooled. We so oten have extra

eole staying with usdying grandothers, destitute reugees, orseverely alnourished childrenthat I a orever doing a head count

beore I begin aking eals. Most days, though, buing along these

red dirt roads in y sixteen-assenger van ull o singing (or screa-

ing) children, neighbors, and occasionally our et onkey, sees

coletely noralso uch so that I have a hard tie writing about

it. To e, there is nothing very sectacular about this everyday crazi-

ness; it is just the result o ollowing Jesus into the iossible, doing

the little I can and trusting Hi to do the rest.Moving to the other side o the world and having a large aily

was never y drea or even y idea. But as I look back, I can see

that God sent y whole lie rearing e or the lie He had

lanned or ethe eole He laced in just the right laces at just

the right ties, and circustances I could never atho would even-

tually be or His glory. For years beore I went to Uganda, I had anta-

sized about doing soething incredible or God and others; what I



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Katie Davis2

have learned is that I can do nothing incredible, but as I ollow God

into iossible situations, He can work iracles in and through e.

I rst entioned itthe idea o doing soething outside the

norto y arents in a serious way on y sixteenth birthday. To

celebrate, y arents took e to eat y avorite ood, sushi, at y a-

vorite restaurant. It was a lighthearted occasion until I ade a ner-

vous coent that changed the ood coletely: I think I will

send a year doing ission work ater I nish high school and beore

I go to college.

The siles on y arents aces gave way to blank stares andlooks o conusion. The hay chatter at the dinner table ceased and

y coent seeed stuck in the atoshere. Silence.

I ight as well have said I wanted to lay quarterback in the NFL

or fy to the oon. To the, taking a year to do ission work was

about that ar-etched. It was coletely unheard o in the Davis

aily and, I knew, robably unaccetable. My ather had always

been adaant about his desires or y lie, desires rooted in his love

or e and in his concern or y saety and well-being. As ost ar-ents do, both y o and y dad wanted to do everything they

could to guarantee e a successul, coortable lie, and they elt the

best way to secure a good uture or e was to rovide e with a

college education that would reare e or a career.

A ew inutes ater I entioned taking a year o to have soe

kind o adventure besides college, y arents recovered ro their

shock and resonded in the best ossible way; they didnt say no.

They sily said they were not sure about the idea, but they would

think about it. I was convinced in y heart that y desire was right. I

was ready to go; it was u to God to convince y arents.

Soradically over the next eighteen onths, I reebered this

conversation and searched the Internet or the word orphanage so I

could investigate volunteer oortunities. I never had Uganda seci-

cally in ind. As y senior year in high school grew closer, I began

alying to volunteer at several orhanages I had ound online. A



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Kisses from Katie 3

hoe or babies in Uganda was the rst to resond and say they were

in need o volunteers. I was excited and y arents agreed to allow

e to go over winter break during y senior year, hoing I would get

it out o y syste. Their only requireent was that I nd an adult

to travel with e.

My arents ay have been ore clever than I gave the credit

or. O course, nding an adult who could take three weeks away

ro a job in the United Statesand who wanted to send that vaca-

tion tie, including Christas, in Arica with eroved iossi-

ble. So I begged y other to accoany e. When she realizedhow uch I wanted to go and saw that I wasnt giving u on the idea,

she said she would think about it. She soon realized this tri was not

a whi but soething about which I was deely assionate, and be-

cause she is a woan who genuinely wants her children to be hay

and ullled, she reluctantly agreed to the adventure. Beore long, her

reluctance turned into anxious enthusias and she becae excited to

be the erson who would share this drea with e.

In Deceber 2006, y o and I were on our way to Uganda,where we would send three weeks volunteering in a hoe or aban-

doned or orhaned babies. During those three weeks, I lost art o y

heart to a lace Id never been beore. I ell in love with Uganda as

soon as I arrived. Ater I woke u the rst orning o our stay, I

looked around and saw glistening bright white siles against ebony

aces; I heard hay voices, lilting language, and gentle laughter. I

saw strength and deth o character in eoles eyes. I ound Uganda

to be a beautiul land lled with beautiul eole.

Jinja, the city nearest to the village where I live today, sits nestled

against the shore o Lake Victoria and at the source o the Nile River.

Views o the lake and the river took y breath away when I saw the

or the rst tie, and the exlosion o color I saw as buy, vibrant,

red dirt roads traversing the lush green landscae cativated e.

The eole who called this ascinating country hoe astounded

e with their gracious kindness and gentle ways. I watched, wide-



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Katie Davis4

eyed, as cattle, goats, and chickens roaed reely through the villages

while curious children wandered aong the shacks and akeshit

businesses (such as little stores that sell canned drinks or washbasins

or airtie or cellular telehones). In the town, I saw the kind o

everyday lie that haens in every society, in its own way, take lace

as eole shoed along Jinjas ain streets, did their banking, or et

riends and chatted on the sidewalk. When I went to the villages, I

witnessed en and woen shucking corn, cooking, talking aong

theselves, or sily sitting beside the road quietly taking in the ha-

enings o village lie.Whether I was in the town or out in a village, children were every-

where. When they saw a erson with a dierent color o skin, they

giggled and shouted. Soe ran toward e with glee, others shrieked

and fed at the sight o a oreigner. Those who werent araid o e

grabbed y hands eagerly, as though we had been riends orever. It

was easy or e to all in love with the and with their country, its

enorous beauty juxtaosing extree overty.

Most o our tie was sent working at the babies hoe eeding,changing, teaching, and laying with the any children there. The

children as well as the woen who worked in the orhanage inched

their way into y heart, leaving their little handrints all over it. I

would never be the sae.

I let Uganda in tears at the end o our tri, the country and the

eole now a art o e. I cried all the way back to Tennessee and

knew that soeday I would return. I was orever ruined or coort,

convenience, and luxury, reerring instead challenge, sacrice, and

risking everything to do soething I believed in. I realized it as I

bathed babies and changed diaers in the babies hoe, as I et older

children and threw stones into the river with the, and as I did every-

thing I could do to eet the basic huan needs so evident around

e. My heart had ound its joy as I served the beautiul eole the

world calls oor but who seeed so rich in love to e. I have no

doubt that God was rearing a longing in y heart or Uganda any



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years beore I could even nd this country on a a; there is no other

exlanation or the instant love I elt or this lace and these eole.

Though the red soil eventually wore o the soles o y eet, Uganda

never let y heart and was never ar ro y ind.

Uon y return to the United States to nish y last seester o

high school I ust adit I had becoe a bit obsessed with Uganda. I

glanced at the clock during class to gure out what tie it was there

and daydreaed about what y riends in Uganda were doing. I

talked about Uganda so uch that I sure all y riends in the

States wanted to tell e kindly to shut u. I knew I had to get back.During y tri to Uganda, I et a astor who had ounded and

ran an orhanage on the outskirts o Jinja. He was lanning to oen a

kindergarten there and had asked e to be the teacher. The idea

seeed a bit reosterous, as I had little exerience teaching any-

thing other than Sunday school, but he insisted I was the one or the

job. Once I returned hoe, I realized I was reared to do whatever I

could to get back to y beloved Uganda, even i it eant suddenly

becoing a kindergarten teacher.By the end o y senior year, ater any conversations and ale

oortunities to see that I was serious about returning to Uganda, y

arents had nally agreed to y ostoning college or one year. I

roised to send only one year in Uganda and, when that year was

nished, to return to the States and enroll in college. In the ean-

tie, though, I had agreed to teach kindergarten in a sall slu vil-

lage outside o Jinja, Uganda. Though any o y riends and uch

o y aily did not understand y desire to be so ar away or so

long, no one could daen y enthusias. Every once in a while I

elt nervous, but ore oten than not I could hardly contain y ex-

citeent or this yearlong adventure.

My dad, still unhay that I was not going to college, never lost

his atherly concern or e. As a ather who had worked to rovide

everything his only daughter had ever needed or wanted, he had any

isgivings about the adventure I was deterined to undertake. In



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Kisses from Katie 7

why I elt it. I think any eole would have looked at the and seen

only their lthy clothes, the ringwor on their heads, or the ucus

that ended u in a crust around their nostrils. They would have

looked around at the doritories o the orhanage with its sooth,

hard ceent foor where rats and cockroaches ade theselves at

hoe and been a bit disgusted. By the grace o God, though, I didnt

see these things.

The truth is, I saw ysel in those little aces. I looked at the

and elt this love that was uniaginable and knew that this is the way

God sees e. The children would run to e with gits o stones ordirt and I saw ysel, lthy and broken, oering y lie to the God o

the universe and begging Hi to ake it into soething beautiul. I

sit here in a broken world, sall and dirty at His eet, and He who

sits so high chooses to coune with e, to love e anyway. He

blinds Hisel to y sin and y lth so that He can orge a relation-

shi with e. And this is what He did or e with these recious

children. He blinded e to the lth and disease, and I saw only chil-

dren hungry or love that I was eager to share with the. I adoredthe, not because o who I was, but because o who He is. I just sat

right down on that cold, hard foor and snuggled y nose into their

dirty necks and kissed their ungus-covered heads and didnt even see

it. I was in love.

Fro the oent I got there, I was busy, hay, and exhausted

ro rocking babies, reading to toddlers, laying with reschool-aged

children, and entertaining the ve- and six-year-olds. I sent orn-

ings teaching kindergarten and sent ost o y aternoons with the

two- to six-year-olds at the orhanage because the older children at-

tended school during the day and didnt return to the orhanage until

about 5:00 p.m.

I had coe to Uganda loaded with aer, crayons, counting

charts, and icture books, reared to teach the twelve or ourteen

kindergarten-aged children who lived at the orhanage. As I was in

transit ro the States, however, the astor had decided he elt led to



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Katie Davis8

oen the school u to the slu counity surrounding the orhan-

age, and the villagers were quick to ju at the oortunity or an in-

exensive education.

Iagine y surrise, then, when I showed u to teach twelve

children and 138 airs o eyes stared back at e, a sea o 138 brown

little aces craed into the barn-turned-classroo (which selled

exactly like a barn and not at all like a classroo), all ready and eager

to learn. As I ade y way through the aze o little bodies sitting on

wobbly benches, the roo was silent. Finally, soeone was unable to

contain a giggle any longer, iercing the quiet with joy. Soe o theother students started laughing, too, while others began to cry. The

children didnt know what to do; they had never been to school be-

ore. And none o the soke English. Soe, never having seen a

white erson, trebled with ear and were hesitant to even look at

e. Others, so intrigued by this new kind o erson, cautiously etted

y hair, tugged on y ars, and careully exained y blue veins

through y translucent skin.

My students were resectul and obedient, but the language bar-rier, cobined with the sheer nuber o the, ade teaching any-

thing see alost iossible. I sent the rst week just trying to

coe u with a good syste o counication. This is a ball, I

would say slowly, enunciating every syllable. Dees ees a boll, their

squeaky voices echoed back. We would send all orning reeating

this exercise, only to have soeone coe u to e at the end o the

day holding a encil and roudly roclai, Dees ees a boll!

The language issues cae as a bit o a surrise because I hadnt

dealt with the while working at the babies hoe during y three-

week stay in Uganda. The babies hoe was located in the city o Jinja

and any eole there soke English, so y o and I never had

trouble counicating. Besides, technically, English is the ocial

language o Uganda, but the truth is that very ew eole outside the

ajor cities seak English, certainly not in the sall villages outside

Jinja, such as the one in which I was living and working. What I



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Kisses from Katie 9

learned during that tie, though, is that love knows no language. Al-

though we were not able to seak to one another, we ound any

other ways o counicating; the children seeed to know I loved

the, and I knew they loved e too.

God did eventually send a wonderul translator and three ar-

velous Ugandan woen to teach beside e. I a certain that I

learned uch ore ro y students and ellow teachers than they

did ro e.

As uch as I learned ro others, there were certain asects o

adating to a new culture that I sily had to gure out as I wentalong, things like how to calculate quickly how any Ugandan shil-

lings equaled one Aerican dollar or trying to ride sidesaddle on a

piki. (Apiki is a otorcycle and serves as the riary ode o trans-

ortation or any eole in and around Jinja. Many en have their

own businesses as piki drivers. They can be ound congregating in

grous in the iddle o downtown Jinja or hailed, like taxis in the

United States, along the side o the road.)

Days were sent learning to counicate, laughing hystericallywith y students, and trying to laugh at the rustrations that cae

with this new job. Aternoons were sent with the children at the or-

hanage laying tic-tac-toe and hangan in the dirt, having y hair

tugged in all dierent directions, and getting covered in the red dust

that I was learning would never wear o y eet.

One o y greatest joys was the orhanages tie o raise and

worshi to God with all 102 children who lived there. During this

tie, which lasted or about an hour beore the children went to bed,

they sang with all their hearts, laughed, cried, and rayed in a lan-

guage I couldnt understand. They were sily being with Jesus and I

could eel Gods resence there ore strongly than I ever had beore.

I arveled at Gods huge love or us as I cradled little babies late into

the nightthat even these children, the least o these, were created

by Hi secically or a very secial urose.

There were any oents o great joy: singing o Jesus love with



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Katie Davis10

the older children as we took a walk to the river to throw stones, cud-

dling with babies ro the orhanage in y twin bed at ve in the

orning, juing or joy in church with eole so ull o Gods love

that they could not hold still. However, there were still any o-

ents when y atience was challenged. Through the rustrations,

God taught e to laugh at ysel, y ways o doing things, and what

used to be iortant to e. He taught e that when doing y best

was still not enough, that was when He took over; and because o His

great grace and love, even in the rustrating oents I was lled with

an inexlicable hainess and eace, y daily roo that I was livingy urose.

I laugh now to think how stressed out I was about geckos in y

bed, children eating erasers, and learning to cook beans on an oen

re, wash y laundry by hand with bar soa, or bathe outside in a

bucket. Every day, though, as I looked around at beautiul, exectant

aces with huge coee-brown eyes hungry or the love o Jesus, I

knew that I was here just to love, and the rest I would gure out in

tie.Soeties, in the idst o all the loving, raising the Lord, and

energy and laughter the children around e seeed to exude, I orgot

that these children had been orhaned, that they had horrible sorrow

and treendous ain in their asts. One day, I was reinded.

Six-year-old Derek, a shy little boy with the ace o an angel, ell

and bued his head. He looked so deterined not to cryhere

children are taught to be big and toughbut against his best eorts,

tears began to fow. I ulled hi into y la, and alost as quickly as

they had started the tears stoed. But what was let, the sorrow in

those eyes beyond the tears, I will never orget. The eyes that eered

out o that six-year-old ace were a hundred years old and had seen

ore tragedy in their short lietie than ost ever will. I was lled

with grie or this beautiul boy. I cradled in y ars a child who had

seen his arents and siblings killed and had ore than likely been

orced to kill others hisel in the war in northern Uganda. This child



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Kisses from Katie 11

had known what it eant to be truly starving, to be totally lost, to be

utterly hoeless.

And in that sae oent o sadness, I was blown away by the

greatness o our Lord, by the act that God in all His ighty lans

had cared enough or this child, had cared enough or e, to ut us

together in that oent. The God who created the heavens and the

earth knew that on a rainy day in Uganda a little boy would bu his

head, and the ain would be deeer than just that bu. God had

ut e in just the right lace and given e the rivilege o loving this

child, gently rubbing his back and holding his hand, in a way he hadnot been loved in a long tie, i ever. By the grace o God, I was

blessed with the git o being able to hold and hug this child, eventu-

ally tickling hi until those sorrowul eyes brightened a little, and

Derek threatened to erut with laugher. We sat there like that or

quite soe tie, and Derek never soke. When I asked hi i he

wanted to go lay now, he shook his head and looked at e with a

ace that read No, can I stay here orever, and when we nally got

u or dinner, those big brown eyes were ull o gratitude. God re-inded e again that day that I have one urose, in Uganda and in

lie, and that is to love. I could ask or no greater assignent.

Even though God reinded e in owerul ways at ties, like on

that day with Derek, that I was called to Uganda, there were still

ties in those early days when I wondered Why me? Why would God

choose me to do this? But as I think through y lie, I see how blessed

and loved I have been. I think it is only noral that God would ask,

even require, e to share this love with others who ay not know it.

Luke 12:48 says, Fro everyone who has been given uch, uch

will be deanded; and ro the one who has been entrusted with

uch, uch ore will be asked. And I have been given so uch.

So this is why y everyday, crazy, chaotic lie sees so noral. It

is sily an ongoing, ever-changing result o what it looks like to try

to love like Christ in y lie. This is the sot on the a where God

has asked e to do the things I dolike our out y heart or chil-



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Katie Davis12

dren who are hungry or alone, to try to hel eole leave harul

work and learn skills that will hel the care or their ailies, or to

assist woen who are struggling to raise their children alone. This is

the lace where I a suosed to ollow Jesus, obey Hi, and ake

y best eort, with His gracious hel, to treat eole with dignity

and care or the unconditionally. To say yes to each and every thing

He asks o e, to each erson He laces in ront o e.

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KISSES FROM KATIE by Katie Davis - Read Chapter 1