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The Deacon's Bench

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One of the ongoing horrors of our day is the plight of Sudan’s “Lost Boys.” One of those boys, now grown into a man, is in the middle of an arduous journey that may, God willing, take him to the priesthood. 

If you have prayer you can spare, whisper it up for this remarkable young man:
Kuol Dut was six when the swirling chaos of war churned through his village.
He recalls playing in a field as neighbors raced toward him, screaming about militias attacking their homes. Even a boy of Kuol’s age knew that militias and soldiers slaughtered men, women and children in the vast, flat expanse of southern Sudan. So he ran, too. 

That attack separated Kuol from his mother and father and cast him into a childhood of desolation. He would see friends starve to death, skin stretched taut over ribs, chests rising and falling with rattling wisps of breath. 

Later, a rebel army would train him to fight as a child soldier, Kuol says. 

Despite the horrors that he endured, Kuol’s journey eventually gave him a reverence for education and a deep Christian faith. It also led him to the hustle and bustle of the United States, a place with gleaming office towers, cable television and all-you-can-eat buffets. There Kuol would pursue his dream of becoming a Catholic priest. 

He would also learn that his mother was alive after all — and they would reunite 16 years after last seeing each other.  

The last time Kuol had seen his mother and other relatives was in 1988, when he and his neighbors left their smoldering village. 

If they are dead,” he recalls praying, “just take their souls and put them to your right hand.”

Read the whole thing.  It’s an amazing journey. 

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