The story of the Rwandan genocide, and how one man came to stand up to it, is extremely difficult to watch.

It's difficult to watch because this much-nominated film makes startlingly clear that those of us who in safety witnessed the genocide from afar are complicit in the massacres that left more than 800,000 people dead in three short months. We knew, and yet, we did nothing; we did not intervene; we did not demand that our governments send troops. In fact, as the film points out, our governments intentionally turned their backs on Rwanda, and we let them.

By the time the credits rolled, I was overwhelmed with despair. I was a newspaper editor in 1994, and ran story after story about the genocide that was unfolding before our eyes. I watched the TV news every night, and to this day remember with startling clarity the photos of body after body washing down the rivers. I knew what was going on, and prayed that by telling the world of this horror, I somehow could help. I prayed throughout those three months that my witness, combined with the witness of so many others, would galvanize the world into action.

It didn't.

So, by the end of "Hotel Rwanda," all I could do was weep.

The despair I felt over failing to make a difference in 1994 washed over me because now, 10 years later, hundreds of us again are telling the story of an African genocide, only this time in Darfur, Sudan.
Tens of thousands of Sudanese already are dead; more than 1 million others are displaced and facing death.

Can our witness to this devastation make any difference? So far, it hasn't. The killings continue while the world watches, or worse, doesn't know or even care what is happening.

If witnessing to the horrors of Rwanda didn't stop the genocide 10 years ago, why, I cried in despair after seeing the film, did I think that witnessing to the genocide going on RIGHT NOW would make any more difference?

Is there any value in witnessing, I wondered? Can any of us telling the story make any difference at all?

I saw "Hotel Rwanda" with a group of people who either are training To be missionaries, as I am, or who already have been or are missionaries. Part of our call will be to tell the story of wherever we go and to share with the world the reality of what is going on in faraway places. My particular call will take me to Southern Sudan, where I pray to begin helping these much-persecuted people begin to live and move and have their being in peace.

But after seeing the film, my strong sense of call to this mission wavered.

What difference does telling the story make, I wondered, if no one is listening, or worse, if no one even cares?

I tossed and turned all night after the movie. Over and over, one question kept waking me: What difference does witnessing make?

And then, this past weekend, we honored the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a powerful witness who saw the injustices of the world and despite all the obstacles, never stopped telling the story.

Despite constant jailings, harassment and death threats, King proclaimed the story: There was injustice in the world, and it had to be stopped. He preached because he was filled hope, hope that witnessing to the truth eventually would bring about the reconciliation and restoration this nation so desperately needed.

That was King's dream, the one he never gave up on. Even when he wasn't able to accomplish everything he wanted, he continued to be a powerful witness to the world of that dream.

Hearing his story again, especially in church, not only renewed my sense of mission, it reinvigorated it. My sense of call, my sense that witnessing -- that telling the story REGARDLESS of whether anyone listens or even cares -- is what is most important was restored to me.

The fact is, when Jesus commissioned his disciples to go into the world and tell the story, he never demanded results from them. He simply said, Go into the world and preach the Gospel, the Good News of God in Christ.

Yes, it would be wonderful if all that story-telling, if all that witnessing, would make a difference. Yes, it would be an answer to prayers if by witnessing, we could end the genocides not only in Sudan, but also in Burundi and any place else it is taking place.

But our job, our call, as people who follow God and God's commands, is not to get results.

It is to tell the story over and over again in the sure and certain hope that one day, God's reconciliation and God's peace will reign. King's story, and more important, his story-telling, pulled me out of the depths of despair.

I will never stop weeping over Rwanda, just as I am certain I shall always weep for Darfur.

But never again will I doubt the need and the power of witnessing.