Today, Bradley and I
became the parents of a 2-year-old boy named James. Here is the miraculous story of how the Lord brought him to
us.
In April of 2011, a
woman by the name of Halai Agatha was digging for produce in the brush of far
eastern Uganda…right on the border of Kenya. While looking for food for her family, she found a baby boy
abandoned underneath a coffee bean shrub.
He was very small – he couldn’t walk or talk. She immediately took him back to her house in the village of
Muzetati (in the Manafwa district) and began inquiring after who he belonged
to. Agatha and her husband, Michael, already
had 8 children of their own, whom they could not afford to feed. Michael was not keen to the idea of
taking in a new baby, however temporary the circumstances may be. Due to the rural location of their village,
any inquiries regarding the baby’s parents were made on foot and took many days
to complete. During the tenure of
over a year, the baby stayed with Agatha and her children while investigations
were ongoing.
Agatha named the baby
Mumwata James. Mumwata – meaning
“abandoned one.”
Michael (a polygamist Muslim)
became extremely hostile toward James and Agatha. While there is no written statement that he physically
abused James, I am absolutely certain that he did. And I know for a fact that he abuses Agatha to this very
day. The situation got so bad that
at one point, he threw Agatha and all 8 of her children out of their
house. The police got involved and
forced him to accept them all back.
The presence of this
little baby boy caused immeasurable grief.
During this time, the
Manafwa District probation officer, Issah, got in touch with Emma and learned
about a certain family in Texas looking to adopt a baby boy. The situation at Agatha’s house had
become so stressful, and James had become so ill, that Issah gave Emma special
permission to take James back to Kampala to live with him until we could
arrive.
This move proved to be a
life-saving occurrence. Due to the
extreme malnourishment that James faced in Muzetati, along with the lack of
proper clothing, shelter, and medical treatment, James developed a severely low
immune system and became susceptible to every kind of illness he came in
contact with. His little body had
absolutely no defense mechanism.
Dr. Emma was able to treat him and get him the best medical care
possible.
Emma says that when
James first came to live with him, he was terrified of men. Which makes sense. The only man he had ever really known
was extremely hostile towards him.
Men could not be trusted.
James wanted nothing to do with Bradley during the first week we had him,
either.
By the time we arrived
in Kampala 6 weeks ago to begin this journey, James had been hospitalized for
several days due to acute malaria, bacterial infection, and jaundice. Here are some pictures of us meeting
James for the first time at the hospital:
The first week or so of
having James in our care was honestly a complete nightmare. Having spent several weeks in Emma’s
home and experiencing true love and care for the first time…James wanted
nothing to do with us. All he
wanted was Emma. We knew that
attachment would take some time and we weren’t really discouraged – we were
just sad for him. At our hotel,
James would stand by the door and just wait for somebody to open it so he could
leave. He looked perpetually
sad. He never smiled or
laughed. And why would he? Up until this point in his little life,
he had no reason to laugh or smile.
Life was not fun for little James.
Here is a picture of his very first bath with us. And nap time with a tuckered out mommy.
During the first week we
had him, we took the trip up to the village of Muzetati to get several
documents signed and to meet Agatha.
I was not prepared for the heartache of this meeting. As soon as James saw Agatha, he ran to
her and she held him tightly. It
was obvious that she loved this boy.
She had endured so much for him already. Through an interpreter, she retold the story of finding him under
the coffee bush and keeping him in her house despite her husband’s threats and
abuse. She told me how happy she
was that James would have a good home and that he would get to live in America. I was absolutely torn up over
this. When it was time to leave, I
made Emma take James out of her arms…there was no way on earth I was taking him
away from her.
This was the first time
I saw James cry.
And he cried for about
an hour. And I let him. I held him and I didn’t try to make him
stop. I have never and probably
will never experience the grief and confusion and terror this little 2-year-old
boy felt that day. I don’t know
what it’s like to be abandoned in the jungle. I don’t know what it’s like to be rescued, only to find that
your new environment is hostile and dangerous. I don’t know what it’s like to have a strange white woman
take you from the only “mother” you’ve ever known. I don’t know what it’s like to be unsure of where your next
meal will come from. But James knows
all of these things too well.
Over the last few weeks,
James has become extremely attached to me and Bradley. He calls us “Mama” and “Dada” and is
very affectionate with us. He
treats his sister, Jolie, with kindness.
He loves being a big brother!
He knows the names of all of his big sisters at home in Texas. He loves skyping with our family. He now plays, laughs, and smiles often,
and is a generally happy little boy.
He still has moments of extreme grief and intense crying. We deal with each of these moments as
they come. He still has a
deep-rooted fear of abandonment.
He freaks out any time I leave the room. There is much healing that needs to take place.
Agatha has made several
trips to Kampala to assist us with James’ court dates. She has always been very kind and
compliant. Every time I see her, I am reminded of the faithfulness of God in my life. My husband does not beat me. My husband only has one wife. My husband is an amazing father to our children. My husband is not an alcoholic. My husband is an excellent provider for his family. Thank You, Jesus. I was completely blown
away the last time she was in town…James preferred me over her. He actually wanted nothing to do with
her. I couldn’t believe it. It grieved me for Agatha’s sake…she had
sacrificed so much for this little boy.
Here is a picture of the 2 of them together during her last trip to
Kampala:
James’ story is my
story. It is your story. It is a glaring picture of what we were
before Christ rescued us. Lost,
abandoned, neglected, sick, alone, distraught, fearful, naked, abused, hungry. Christ, in His unending love, sought us
out. He fought for us. He found us. He rescued us.
He clothed us. He fed
us. He paid the highest price for
us. He traded our sorrow for His
joy. He traded our ashes for His
beauty. He traded our mourning for
His dancing. He adopted us into
His forever family and gave us a rich inheritance in Him.
I am James. You are James.
God sent Bradley and I
from our comfortable existence in Plano, TX, to the middle-of-nowhere Uganda to
rescue this precious little boy because he has a sacred calling on his
life. James – you are no longer called
Mumwata, “abandoned one.” You are
now called Akanonda – “God has chosen me.” God has chosen you, little boy. You now belong to the Knight family. You now have a great heritage of faith
on both sides of your family. The
Knight men and the Allen men are all servants of the Most High God. You have been chosen to follow in their
footsteps. You will be raised as a
mighty warrior for the Kingdom.
You are destined for greatness.
Dearest friends – allow me to introduce you to our son, James William Akanonda Knight. James happens to be my mother’s maiden name. William is Bradley’s mother’s maiden
name. And Akanonda is his Ugandan
name…because God has chosen him.
“For the Lord your God
has chosen you for His treasured possession…”
– Deuteronomy 7:6
