Most mornings, we wake up to messages from our team in Uganda, often accompanied by photos of the incredible work they are doing in the field.

Today, one photo stood out to me—a simple, heartfelt message written on a bed in one of our shelters in Kampala.

I found myself staring at it for a while, deeply moved by its significance.

I can’t help but think that one of the young girls, after finding sanctuary and safety at our safe house, left this sweet, unspoken mark of hope—the most beautiful kind of graffiti.

As I looked at that photo, I was reminded of a passage in Matthew 15. It tells of Jesus leading his followers to a place north of the Galilee, where chaos, rituals, and sacrifices to Pan and other Roman gods took place.

To appease the gods, the sacrifices were thrown into a pit known as the “gates of Hades.” It was here that Jesus told Peter, “On this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”

Sarah and I visited this very site three years ago.

As I stared at the photo of that simple message scribbled on a bed, I couldn’t help but draw a parallel: one little girl, saved from the very gates of Hell, is reminding us that darkness will not prevail.

In every child we rescue and in every life we touch, we are witnessing a victory in God’s kingdom.

Your continued support helps us push forward, knowing that we are building something that can outshine the darkness and overcome evil. 

Thank you for walking this journey with us.

Scott Lambie
CEO & President, 
Rescue One More

We want to introduce you to the first child we rescued. Meet 9-year-old Flora*. Flora is a fun-loving, precocious, and energetic child. You’d never know from meeting her that she’d experienced a brutal attack.

Right now, children’s lives are in danger. Girls who’ve reported cases of abuse or escaped trafficking are living in fear for their lives.

Girls like 5-year-old Tisha* who was being abused in her home by a family member.

Earlier this month (April 2022), a child rapist was arrested in Mukono, Uganda, a bustling town on the outskirts of the capital city, Kampala. Like a predator, he laid in wait to pounce on the next innocent, defenseless, and vulnerable child who wandered across his path.

We could tell you we’re the heroes. We could tell you we’re the ones rescuing girls; we’re the ones working hard to meet their physical, emotional, and spiritual needs; we’re the ones bringing an end to sexual violence in Uganda. But the truth is, we’re not the heros. They are.

9 months ago (in August 2021), 13-year-old “Macy”* found herself pregnant after being brutally attacked by a gang. Despite pressure from her family to abort, she decided to keep her baby.

10 years ago (in Oct. 2011), if you’d asked Vanessa about her dreams for her future, she would have told you she didn’t have any.

On Saturday, I received a text from Cissy. “Uncle, there’s a girl in my village that needs help,” she said. She went on to tell me about “Macy,” a 13-year-old who was raped by several men in her village. She’s now five months pregnant.

Ten years ago [Oct. 2011], Scott and I walked into a government office in Kampala, Uganda, and saw a little girl sitting quietly in the corner. The little girl, the child protection officer explained, had run away from home after years of sexual abuse. He didn’t know what to do with her because there were no systems in place to help children experiencing abuse.