Wednesday, September 19, 2012


My Dream 

When I was 4 I told my mom I wanted to work with the poor.  Since then, I have always had a deep and sincere love for those who cannot help themselves.  Those who are suffering.  While it is true that we are all suffering in our own way... I always felt a deeper love for those who where in physical pain while simultaneously carrying around emotional baggage. Working with people who were misunderstood and unloved. Those two things: present and present. 

Fast-forward 18 years, and I happily jumped on a plane to West Africa.

For the next 4 years I found myself in places where I didn’t understand, asked why around 50 times a day, and couldn’t deal with those in pain, suffering and hurt. 

I was confused.  My heart reached out to people, yet my heart hurt.  I tried to cover up my own mess, while caring for others, not allowing my mess to be my message. 
Surrounding me was pain I never could even begin to imagine feeling in my own body.
Pain unfathomable.

I saw things I never asked to see.
I saw things.

All around me was death at every moment.... 

Broken relationships, broken legs, breast cancer, cancer, orphans, eyes, thieves, 
widows, malaria, disease, blood, car accidents, motorcycle accidents in front of me, bus accidents where everyone died, apathy, loneliness, hurt, pain, lies... 

The list goes on. Was this really my 4 year old dream? 

It's Not About Me 

But it’s not about me.  The first couple years I thought I could handle it.  My pride yelled at me from every corner (although I wouldn’t admit it was pride till later).  I can do this.  Well, the fact is, I can’t do this. We’re all fighting a battle every day.  We cannot do it with our spouses, our finances, our jobs and dreams.  None of us can do this without peace.  Without God. We must choose our battles. Daily. 


There is pride in all our hearts, yet, how we allow God to handle it is our decision.  You see, I didn’t find this out until I went to Uganda a couple years later.  I was a little bit seasoned, and a little more 'street smart.' 


His Dream

One moment in time I found myself in a musty, dirty, jet-fuel stanching room. Surrounding me were 50 boys.  All of them living in the slums. These boys were extremely hurt, broken, needy, ugly, addicted. One day, a boy around the age of 15 came to the little hut where we had “set up camp.” His name is Hamsa.  Hamsa is an amazing boy.  

For some odd reason, or for some act of God, I was put in charge of the medical unit.  Me? In charge of something I knew little about!? What? Well, needless to say, I knew more than I thought. :) I’ve had training, and I can tell an infection is an infection.  Well this, was definitely an infection. 

You see, Hamsa had broken his leg.  Not yesterday, months ago.  The leg he broke, his right one... was protruding outside his skin.  His tibia, or more commonly known as the lower portion of his leg was infected.  Sticking out.  Infected.  Extremely. 

My team asked me lots of questions: Davy, what do we do? How do we fix it? How do we help this boy? 

“Honestly... I need air.” 

I stepped outside the hut, I knew he would die.  Within a matter of weeks this extreme infection would hit his system, and he would die.  

Why God didn’t you save him? Why did he let it get this far? Why? 
This situation was too demanding.  Too difficult. 

All I wanted to do was hold him, love him, yet, I couldn’t.  I couldn’t do anything. Anything.  Except pray. 

Except walk back in.  I cleaned the wound, wrapped his leg, 3 times the size of the left one, and told him to wait.  Just wait.  A few minutes later, my friend looked at me. “Davy, can I talk to you?”

“Whats going to happen to Hamsa?”

I told him he would die if his leg didn’t have surgery soon, and antibiotics.  

My friend looked at me dead on and said, “Then, lets choose this battle.  Let’s choose it.” 

I looked at him in the eye, and realized that this was one battle God had put our way.  We chose Hamsa that day.  Later, he was sent to surgery and out of our little pocket money, his life was spared.  The entire process of getting him to the hospital and back was extremely stressful, time-consuming and confusing.  However, Hamsa today is spared.  


It's not about me.  It's all about letting go of our pride.  At the point when I met Hamsa, I was getting to a point of being "burnt out." I was tired, I had seen it all, I had almost forgotten that Hamsa had a heart.  I was going to let this one go.  
Yet, my friend who basically slapped my pride in the face changed that.  I realized, that Hamsa had dreams like I had at 4 years old. 

Hamsa had dreams and pride like me.  Hamsa deserved life.  We chose his battle.  

So What? 

I wanted to to share Hamsa's story, because soon, I will be heading back to Uganda.  I would like you to pray for me and my team as we go into Uganda again.  Sure, it's dangerous ... just like anywhere.  Sure, I'm scared.  I would ask you all to join me in prayer and if anyway possible finances. We will be working with slum children, orphans, hospitals and widows.  Please let me know how we can pray for you as we travel.  I would love to keep up with all of you.  My email is below if you would like to be added to my newsletter listing.

How are you following your dreams today? How are you choosing your battles? 
I will miss you.


Davy Desmond

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Not By Sight

"Live by faith not by sight." 2 Corinthians 5:7

Recently God has thrown me into this whirlwind called life.  Yes, He has hit me with various choices and decisions.  To travel, to question, to graciously accept, to wonder, to pray and to hope.  This idea that my faith outweighs my sight keeps throwing itself at me.  The idea that faith is bigger than any sort of belief I have in the system, the person or the dream.  And it's coming at me 90 mph.

Often, I feel like a batter without a bat.  I stand there waiting for something to hit me, but don't know where to bat.  I don't know, because I don't have a bat in my hand.  I'm not prepared.  The pitcher throws and I turn my back in defense of my "most important parts." ;)  Why is this? Why do I turn?  Fear? Not feeling equipped? Desperation? Misunderstanding?

All the while, God is watching me and screaming at me to trust Him in the midst of craziness as I hope that life really is beautiful and wonderful. I remember last year when I was in Africa, I couldn't understand why God would allow a man to die on a motorcycle in front of our vehicle.  It was awful.  Devastating.  The moment was frightening, cold and graphic. I remember feeling extreme sadness correlated with questioning.  This man probably had a wife, kids, chickens and maybe even a business. I remember feeling a shock of fear and butterflies in my stomach for a couple days.  Not the good kind. The kind you get when you can't eat.  The kind you feel when you're nervous about something.  I wouldn't go out and ride for a couple days cause I couldn't see a bike or waterworks exploded!

Then, a miracle happened.  I took a hike with a few friends up to a mountaintop.  We got lost for a while and I wanted to turn back.  We had one radio, a few snacks, and a lot of faith.  After a few hours of arguing and debating about how to make it up through swampy grass and scary rivers, we finally summited.  The top was beautiful.  A place of gorgeous scenery and rolling hills.  We looked down at our home and the villages below.  Everything was lovely.

In that moment I realized again how faithful God is to heal and accept us for who we are today.  Not who we are tomorrow.  (Although He will do that too)... He loves us today.  He meets our darkness and loves us.  He knows we are His and no one else's. He comforts us and holds us.  All the while knowing that we are suffering.  He wants us to trust Him.  No Matter What.  To rest.  No exceptions.  No what ifs, no questions.  Just to trust.  It's easy.  We always want to make it difficult.

So, as I sit and have doubt, even now about the future... I remember how faithful God is.
To give us peace and to give us joy.

Then, my dog comes to me and asks for a hug.  He trusts me.  To love him, to feed him and to hold him.  So I pick up my bat and trust again.  I feel warmth from God, and I know it's time to run.

"We live by faith not by sight." 2 Corinthians 5:7

Love, Davy

Monday, July 23, 2012

A Little Red House

It all happened so fast. 
One minute I was dreaming of traveling, seeing eternity and beyond.   The next minute all I wanted was to have it all back.  The smells, the memories, the pain, the beauty, the hurt, the sweet moments of surrender.  Potato soup, pizza nights, the smell of sage, hugging, kissing, arguing, shooting things, fireworks, tree-climbing, trampolines, bon fires, milk fights, horses, sheep, horrible chickens... The life we had created.  
Yet, often reality is not so glamorous, and everyone has to give up things they love.  To hold on too tightly would be to sin, to hold on loosely would mean never really living.  And so, we clasp our loves close to our hearts for a time... nurture them, steward them, hate them, want to leave them, and return to them, often kicking and screaming...  I was screaming all right.
I didn’t think it would be like this!
I couldn’t even walk down the hill.  Tears rolled down without my consent.  They kept coming unwarranted. I looked up again.  “Breathe, just breathe! In, out, in, out.” I kept repeating these words in my head for about 5 minutes.  I had to stop.  I had to face the place.  I always thought going back would be easy, but now I see I was attached in ...more ways than one.  Experiences, moments, hardships, tears, yelling, aching, heartbreak, laughter, holidays.  It all rushed back in a moment.  It rushed back so fast I couldn’t even tell what memories I was having anymore...  All i knew is I was crying.  
I remember when... 
...I took this place for granted.  I thought I had spent (too much) time here, and felt boxed in.  I wanted to “see the world.” And all it had to offer.  Yet, every time I would come home, I would grow even more comfortable in a place that was becoming less and less “mine,” and more “my vacation spot.” Still it was home.  It truly allowed us to live in it.  It allowed us to mistreat it sometimes, and still it stood there just for us!  Letting us live comfortably and free. 
And it really made life really good. 
The thing is, memories were made here in this little red-stucco paradise.  Beautiful ones.  Romantic ones, tragedies, mysterious stories, philosophical debates, late night movies, prayers for hope and family fights.  All things good and beautiful. Five rowdy yet lovely children were raised here... (although my parents might argue the latter part of that statement). 
It takes courage... 
...To face something you once loved and were forced to leave due to life’s hits. To walk around in it for a second and remember.  And this is exactly what I did.  The new tenant showed me around.  Not for long, but for only a few moments. I couldn’t take much more than that.  But I began to understand how much love truly went into building and living in such a wonderful place.  I loved it.  It was home, and always will be. 

Monday, June 11, 2012

Can I Get A .... Drumroll Please?

Dear Friends, 

Where In The World Is Davy? 
It’s been too long.  Literally too long! It was so nice to see everyone in Texas on my visit there.  I got to hold lots of babies, play in the heat and hug many necks.  It was just what I needed.  On the other hand, I have been currently working in Seattle, WA while I pray and seek God in all aspects regarding life.
I Have Not Fallen Off The Earth...

So... Guess what? I’ll be going back to Uganda.  I took some time off from Africa to rest a little and recuperate in order to figure out timing and take care of some things here.  (Also, to save money for Uganda!) 
What I’ll Be Doing 
I will be working with the same kids! :) I will be returning to work at the orphanage I was working with before.  There are 2-3 orphanages in South Uganda that I would like to establish a longer term commitment with.  I will be teaching, mothering and making sure these kids get to a very healthy place.  I will be going solo this time, (Unless you want to join)... :)  The reason for this is, I have had a hard time finding ministries working in this region.  I have considered starting a small non profit for some time, yet the time it takes to do that is daunting.  
What You Can Do 
Please pray for me. I need prayer and guidance from God to know exactly the correct time and wisdom to know exactly what to do at all times.  
Financially I know it’s difficult to help since I won’t be able to give a tax receipt to you.  If you are able to help I would be extremely grateful, (And so would the kids!).  Any bit helps.  There is an address below, and if you send a check you can put in the memo “Ministry”.  My goal is to raise $6000 dollars by September.  
Thank you so much for all your love and support throughout the years...I miss you all greatly.  I hope to see you soon.   God be with you in all you do.
Davy Desmond
2619 SW 149th Place 
Burien, WA 98166