Yes, I was an Aladdin fan and I did love the song “A Whole New World.” It seems very appropriate for what is happening. This morning Ryan and I moved out of the Abaana guesthouse and are spending at least a month working with African Community Technical Service or ACTS. We left the streets and busyness to head southwest into the mountains and the nowhere-ness. We left the comforts of a house for the comforts of a canvas tent (which I love anyway). Our scenery has changed to grassy green mountains and valleys filled with matooke (banana) plantations. It is very similar to Northern Ireland, minus the matooke. We have left the language we have been learning for a new one. We have left our team of 4 to be a part of a team of about 25right now. They say it will increase as we start the project. We have left the random electricity, but electricity none the less for no electricity, except our solar powered battery. We have left sweating in our beds in Kampala from the heat to sleeping under 2 blankets with a bunch of Canadians.
It really is a whole new world. It is full of excitement too. The scenery is gorgeous. The teammates are funny. Half are under the age of 26 and half are over the age of 45. We have already shared so many stories with each other and I know there are so many more to come. Right now as I lay in bed I can hear the drums beating and the natives chanting. The rest of the team says this will happen every night and there is no telling what time during the night they will stop. The stars scream “Look at me!” when you walk outside. Tomorrow will be new. Full of new things to learn and experience. I have learned that I be on a team that makes home visits and fills out papers with people. I pray those times spent in their homes will be a chance to show them my world, to point them to something greater than us all. I pray God continues to make me new every day. I pray he reveals a new world to me, and I will choose2B a builder in this new world. So here’s to the new and a see you later to the old.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Ayila
2 The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.
3 You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
as people rejoice at the harvest,
as warriors rejoice
when dividing the plunder.
4 For as in the day of Midian’s defeat,
you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them,
the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor.
5 Every warrior’s boot used in battle
and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning,
will be fuel for the fire.
6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.
During our week in Gulu, our afternoons were spent at Ayila. The drive takes about 45 minutes – 1 hour depending on how fast we fly along the dirt roads. Ayila is quite different from what Andrew McCovy is like. Yes the people here still went through the fear and struggle of a 20 year war. However, Ayila is still struggling as a village today. Abaana is finishing the construction of the school building for the 450 students. Presently they meet under two 25x8 yard long grass huts and several large trees scattered across the property. Ryan and I were here in early October and gave mosquitoes nets each house in the village. It really is a poor village and isolated village. Everyone comes out each day, whether they are 80 years old or eight days old because it is something to do or at least something to watch.
When we arrived the first day everyone was waiting for us. The local officials welcomed us as big the school officials. It still feels really odd to be greeted with such undeserved reverence. However I am beginning to see Isiah 52:7 differently, “Beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns.” That is what we hoped to do. We thanked them for the greeting, introduced ourselves and got to work. We started by teaching them games. The kids faces lit up in spite of the dirty and tattered and torn clothes they wore to cover their bodies. The adults sat in the shade and enjoyed a good laugh or two at the kids expense when they could not figure out how to run the relay me and Ryan started. I must say we did our fair share of laughing too and it was hard to tell who was having more fun the adults or the kids. It was a break from the life of suffering. While we were introducing ourselves I looked at Katie and said, “I think you should just do medical here each day.” She agreed with me and so the girls went off under a tree to start seeing the adults and the babies who were there. After each one was seen they politely smiled and walked away. As I finished the memory verse and leaned the makeshift blackboard against the tree, kids quickly sat in front of it to copy it down for memory.
As we ride back the fires are being lit in the bush. The practice of burning the bush to prepare it for planting the next year goes on here. I don’t know, but I feel like these people have already been through the fires and God is about to plant something new. I know he is doing some refining of me and it is just day one.
Day two
I awoke to find that my sinus headache had turned into so much more. I didn’t sleep much because it had moved to my lungs and I was having trouble breathing. The pressure in my head was not very pleasant nor was the fever I was running. The bus ride over is like riding a wooden roller coaster for 45 minutes and so my already sore body was yelling at me by the time we got there. The day was full of its regular ups and down once we got going. We organized things the same as we had at Andrew McCovy in the morning. The time with the kids was good. Ryan and I are getting pretty good at making the time last. He is the secret king of games and passing time. I taught the kids “Jesus Love is Bubbling Over” at this school as well and it went great. I passed the kids off to Ryan for some more games before going over to help the girls with medical. The adults are who they see the most, but it is the children who are in the worst shape. Every cut and sore is severely infected with flies crawling around in it. We would be in the hospital for every one of them but it is just a part of their life. Severe burns and blindness to dehydration and diarrhea, we see it all several times. It makes you angry. However the anger is holy. It is a desire for something better and a drive to help. The medical community in the US is busy fighting over money, let’s face it. You can ask kids in the US what they want to be and why and they will answer a doctor because I wanna be rich. It is true there are those who join the profession because they want to help but there are also those who are in it for greed. We need more people who just want to help. A doctor who remembers the holy calling to assist those in need could do so much good here. As we rode back I prayed for such people.
Day 3
My morning was filled with Katie pouring salt water down my nose in an attempt to overcome whatever is fighting me. Experiences I wish to forget. However, the afternoon will NOT be soon forgotten. As soon as we got there the girls pulled out the drums. It was the first time we had pulled them out in Ayila. We have 12 of them each a different size and tuned to a different pitch. Katie and Malory started the drum circle up, which of course let people know we were there. Ryan relaxed on the bus and awaited his time to shine and I walked around. I found some men playing cards in the shade. They are always surprised I know how to play, but that is what a month and a half working with street kids has taught me. After a couple of games they asked me for the soccer ball as they had seen me with it the day before. I came back and told them it was theirs to keep and off they went. As I walked back over to the drums the crowd had begun to grow. After the kids finished, Katie asked the adults if they would like to play.
Sidenote – Ayila is an event. Everyone from great grandparents to grandparents to parents all come and sit under the tree and watch. The women all seem to have babies and the men all seem to have canes, either sugar or wood.
So here we go with 12 adults. Some old some in their 20’s, some clothed, some half naked, some with teeth, some without, but as soon as Katie gave the command to start the joy exploded. Smiles light up their faces. The children are laughing and soon the elders begin to get up to come see what is happening in the circle. In this place where every day is a struggle, the laughter resounds like thunder. It’s appropriate because when God comes to take us home I think it will be loud. And God WAS joining us today and dancing.
Next the kids got into groups and took turns being in the middle of the circle and dancing while the adults played. It was community at its best. We then asked the adults if they would like to dance. After many nervous no’s we got a couple in the middle. However, as soon as the clapping started and dancing started others pushed their way in and joined. All I could think of was the hymn Lord of the Dance “Dance then wherever you may be. I am the Lord of the Dance said he, and I will lead you on wherever you may be, and I’ll lead you on in the dance said He.” God Was leading the dance as the dust flew up from stomping on heartache, pain, disease, loss, and fear. What a moment. As the girls were leaving to go and start treating people I felt I was supposed to grab Katie and pray. I don’t know if it helped her but it made me feel better.
The kids all sat down to listen to me talk. In case you haven’t picked up physically I feel horrible. I’m having trouble breathing, my nose is pouring snot, my head is pounding, and I’m achy. However, there are times when I get this life with God thing right. I know I am not here for myself. I have been reading AW Tozer recently. In one book he talks about how mans problem is the “self.” We have replaced God with ourselves and have removed God from the throne of our hearts. We have made ourselves the focus. It’s only when we have God where he belongs that we can ever truly live the life designed for us. Now I would not have wanted to speak or even had the energy if I would have been focused on me. But slowly I am learning to get rid of myself. Oh sure, it’s still there most of the time, but I’m starting to crawl and maybe even take baby steps. I can only hope that one day I am running after Him. As I finished and turned the kids over to Ryan I realized my focus had been on God and I had not noticed the “me” stuff at all and for that I was thankful.
I headed over to help Katie and Mallory and they were busy. My job is support. I get things they need, cut tape, and handle infections they don’t want to touch or are too busy to get to. The needs seem endless, but at the end of each conversation, patch up, or administration of medicine there is sincere gratitude. Most of the problems could be fixed if they could just see a doctor, but they can’t and one doesn’t come to see them. So that’s why we are here doing what we can. Katie and Mallory look tired as Katie yells at me about keeping a sterile environment. It is Africa in the middle of the dust if she doesn’t remember. However, they bust out the smiles after they are done with someone who is getting better and even laugh at my jokes while we work.
In the back ground I hear screams. They aren’t from pain, but from fun and joy. I see Ryan in the middle of about 150 kids. He is a master of keeping kids laughing. As I had a break from being needed I walked away to blow my nose and watch Ryan play with the kids. His almost matted dreadlocks are pointing everywhere. His Grizzly Adams beard is hanging from his chin, and a big smile is between is rosy cheeks. Before the dreads everyone yelled “Jesu” at him wherever we went. Today he is living up to the name by showing love to all these kids.
As we finally pulled Katie away from another mother and pulled the kids of Ryan’s arm we were on our way. My head hurts, but not my heart. It has been such a blessed day to serve. I am so thankful to die to myself and I pray it happens more often.
Day 4
We decided before we arrived that the girls would need to do medical the whole time in order to have a last shot at seeing everyone. So, Ryan and I had control of the whole day. One of the teachers helped us out a little at the start by having them play some games that they already knew. Somehow we ended up doing the hokie pokie after that. We played a couple more games and then it was time for me to talk. We went over the memory verse and then over the songs, which we kind of had to relearn.
Since Katie and Mallory had been busy helping people they had asked if I would take their spots talking. That usually happens about 10 minutes beforehand and while I am doing something else. As usual God got me through just fine. While talking about sharing the wonderful gift that is the Love of Jesus, I asked them if they were given a whole sugar cane, how many would eat it all and who would share it. Two of them said they would eat it all, and after I got on to them, I said, “Of course you would share it because we all like to share the things that are good. Besides, Jesus is sweeter than sugar cane.” After I said that some of the kids smiled and the translator kinda laughed. She told me there was an Acholi song that all the kids would know called “Jesus is sweeter than Sugar Cane.” I asked her to have them sing it to me, and they did. It is moments like that when you know God is directing conversations and making holy appointments. I turned the kids back to Ryan for his usual game time and went to help the girls. We were all busy and were running out of supplies. We did laugh because Mallory hates mouths and putting her hands in them, but she had about 20 cases in a row of tooth problems. She said that is what she gets for not liking something. We said our good byes and pulled ourselves away from everyone. All of us would love to see a medical team come back there. I would love to see the school buildings get finished. Most importantly I want to see those people understand they are remembered, not just by us, but by a God whose Love is sweeter than sugarcane.
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.
3 You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
as people rejoice at the harvest,
as warriors rejoice
when dividing the plunder.
4 For as in the day of Midian’s defeat,
you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them,
the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor.
5 Every warrior’s boot used in battle
and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning,
will be fuel for the fire.
6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.
During our week in Gulu, our afternoons were spent at Ayila. The drive takes about 45 minutes – 1 hour depending on how fast we fly along the dirt roads. Ayila is quite different from what Andrew McCovy is like. Yes the people here still went through the fear and struggle of a 20 year war. However, Ayila is still struggling as a village today. Abaana is finishing the construction of the school building for the 450 students. Presently they meet under two 25x8 yard long grass huts and several large trees scattered across the property. Ryan and I were here in early October and gave mosquitoes nets each house in the village. It really is a poor village and isolated village. Everyone comes out each day, whether they are 80 years old or eight days old because it is something to do or at least something to watch.
When we arrived the first day everyone was waiting for us. The local officials welcomed us as big the school officials. It still feels really odd to be greeted with such undeserved reverence. However I am beginning to see Isiah 52:7 differently, “Beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns.” That is what we hoped to do. We thanked them for the greeting, introduced ourselves and got to work. We started by teaching them games. The kids faces lit up in spite of the dirty and tattered and torn clothes they wore to cover their bodies. The adults sat in the shade and enjoyed a good laugh or two at the kids expense when they could not figure out how to run the relay me and Ryan started. I must say we did our fair share of laughing too and it was hard to tell who was having more fun the adults or the kids. It was a break from the life of suffering. While we were introducing ourselves I looked at Katie and said, “I think you should just do medical here each day.” She agreed with me and so the girls went off under a tree to start seeing the adults and the babies who were there. After each one was seen they politely smiled and walked away. As I finished the memory verse and leaned the makeshift blackboard against the tree, kids quickly sat in front of it to copy it down for memory.
As we ride back the fires are being lit in the bush. The practice of burning the bush to prepare it for planting the next year goes on here. I don’t know, but I feel like these people have already been through the fires and God is about to plant something new. I know he is doing some refining of me and it is just day one.
Day two
I awoke to find that my sinus headache had turned into so much more. I didn’t sleep much because it had moved to my lungs and I was having trouble breathing. The pressure in my head was not very pleasant nor was the fever I was running. The bus ride over is like riding a wooden roller coaster for 45 minutes and so my already sore body was yelling at me by the time we got there. The day was full of its regular ups and down once we got going. We organized things the same as we had at Andrew McCovy in the morning. The time with the kids was good. Ryan and I are getting pretty good at making the time last. He is the secret king of games and passing time. I taught the kids “Jesus Love is Bubbling Over” at this school as well and it went great. I passed the kids off to Ryan for some more games before going over to help the girls with medical. The adults are who they see the most, but it is the children who are in the worst shape. Every cut and sore is severely infected with flies crawling around in it. We would be in the hospital for every one of them but it is just a part of their life. Severe burns and blindness to dehydration and diarrhea, we see it all several times. It makes you angry. However the anger is holy. It is a desire for something better and a drive to help. The medical community in the US is busy fighting over money, let’s face it. You can ask kids in the US what they want to be and why and they will answer a doctor because I wanna be rich. It is true there are those who join the profession because they want to help but there are also those who are in it for greed. We need more people who just want to help. A doctor who remembers the holy calling to assist those in need could do so much good here. As we rode back I prayed for such people.
Day 3
My morning was filled with Katie pouring salt water down my nose in an attempt to overcome whatever is fighting me. Experiences I wish to forget. However, the afternoon will NOT be soon forgotten. As soon as we got there the girls pulled out the drums. It was the first time we had pulled them out in Ayila. We have 12 of them each a different size and tuned to a different pitch. Katie and Malory started the drum circle up, which of course let people know we were there. Ryan relaxed on the bus and awaited his time to shine and I walked around. I found some men playing cards in the shade. They are always surprised I know how to play, but that is what a month and a half working with street kids has taught me. After a couple of games they asked me for the soccer ball as they had seen me with it the day before. I came back and told them it was theirs to keep and off they went. As I walked back over to the drums the crowd had begun to grow. After the kids finished, Katie asked the adults if they would like to play.
Sidenote – Ayila is an event. Everyone from great grandparents to grandparents to parents all come and sit under the tree and watch. The women all seem to have babies and the men all seem to have canes, either sugar or wood.
So here we go with 12 adults. Some old some in their 20’s, some clothed, some half naked, some with teeth, some without, but as soon as Katie gave the command to start the joy exploded. Smiles light up their faces. The children are laughing and soon the elders begin to get up to come see what is happening in the circle. In this place where every day is a struggle, the laughter resounds like thunder. It’s appropriate because when God comes to take us home I think it will be loud. And God WAS joining us today and dancing.
Next the kids got into groups and took turns being in the middle of the circle and dancing while the adults played. It was community at its best. We then asked the adults if they would like to dance. After many nervous no’s we got a couple in the middle. However, as soon as the clapping started and dancing started others pushed their way in and joined. All I could think of was the hymn Lord of the Dance “Dance then wherever you may be. I am the Lord of the Dance said he, and I will lead you on wherever you may be, and I’ll lead you on in the dance said He.” God Was leading the dance as the dust flew up from stomping on heartache, pain, disease, loss, and fear. What a moment. As the girls were leaving to go and start treating people I felt I was supposed to grab Katie and pray. I don’t know if it helped her but it made me feel better.
The kids all sat down to listen to me talk. In case you haven’t picked up physically I feel horrible. I’m having trouble breathing, my nose is pouring snot, my head is pounding, and I’m achy. However, there are times when I get this life with God thing right. I know I am not here for myself. I have been reading AW Tozer recently. In one book he talks about how mans problem is the “self.” We have replaced God with ourselves and have removed God from the throne of our hearts. We have made ourselves the focus. It’s only when we have God where he belongs that we can ever truly live the life designed for us. Now I would not have wanted to speak or even had the energy if I would have been focused on me. But slowly I am learning to get rid of myself. Oh sure, it’s still there most of the time, but I’m starting to crawl and maybe even take baby steps. I can only hope that one day I am running after Him. As I finished and turned the kids over to Ryan I realized my focus had been on God and I had not noticed the “me” stuff at all and for that I was thankful.
I headed over to help Katie and Mallory and they were busy. My job is support. I get things they need, cut tape, and handle infections they don’t want to touch or are too busy to get to. The needs seem endless, but at the end of each conversation, patch up, or administration of medicine there is sincere gratitude. Most of the problems could be fixed if they could just see a doctor, but they can’t and one doesn’t come to see them. So that’s why we are here doing what we can. Katie and Mallory look tired as Katie yells at me about keeping a sterile environment. It is Africa in the middle of the dust if she doesn’t remember. However, they bust out the smiles after they are done with someone who is getting better and even laugh at my jokes while we work.
In the back ground I hear screams. They aren’t from pain, but from fun and joy. I see Ryan in the middle of about 150 kids. He is a master of keeping kids laughing. As I had a break from being needed I walked away to blow my nose and watch Ryan play with the kids. His almost matted dreadlocks are pointing everywhere. His Grizzly Adams beard is hanging from his chin, and a big smile is between is rosy cheeks. Before the dreads everyone yelled “Jesu” at him wherever we went. Today he is living up to the name by showing love to all these kids.
As we finally pulled Katie away from another mother and pulled the kids of Ryan’s arm we were on our way. My head hurts, but not my heart. It has been such a blessed day to serve. I am so thankful to die to myself and I pray it happens more often.
Day 4
We decided before we arrived that the girls would need to do medical the whole time in order to have a last shot at seeing everyone. So, Ryan and I had control of the whole day. One of the teachers helped us out a little at the start by having them play some games that they already knew. Somehow we ended up doing the hokie pokie after that. We played a couple more games and then it was time for me to talk. We went over the memory verse and then over the songs, which we kind of had to relearn.
Since Katie and Mallory had been busy helping people they had asked if I would take their spots talking. That usually happens about 10 minutes beforehand and while I am doing something else. As usual God got me through just fine. While talking about sharing the wonderful gift that is the Love of Jesus, I asked them if they were given a whole sugar cane, how many would eat it all and who would share it. Two of them said they would eat it all, and after I got on to them, I said, “Of course you would share it because we all like to share the things that are good. Besides, Jesus is sweeter than sugar cane.” After I said that some of the kids smiled and the translator kinda laughed. She told me there was an Acholi song that all the kids would know called “Jesus is sweeter than Sugar Cane.” I asked her to have them sing it to me, and they did. It is moments like that when you know God is directing conversations and making holy appointments. I turned the kids back to Ryan for his usual game time and went to help the girls. We were all busy and were running out of supplies. We did laugh because Mallory hates mouths and putting her hands in them, but she had about 20 cases in a row of tooth problems. She said that is what she gets for not liking something. We said our good byes and pulled ourselves away from everyone. All of us would love to see a medical team come back there. I would love to see the school buildings get finished. Most importantly I want to see those people understand they are remembered, not just by us, but by a God whose Love is sweeter than sugarcane.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Where it all began!
A little over 5 years ago, some of my youth went to a seminar on “Invisible Children” at an event I help plan called Breakthru. I myself had actually not seen the documentary that my kids were watching and so, they proceeded to tell me all about it after they got out. I remember those who had gone to the seminar encouraging the rest of the youth and myself to get involved during our last night there. Shortly after returning from the retreat, I borrowed the documentary from one of the kids and watched it myself. Now, I have always known a little about things on the African continent, but watching the film triggered something in my soul to be involved. The film tells the story of how three American guys stumbled into a terrible crisis in Northern Uganda when they had come to film the war in Sudan. The crisis was caused by a war between the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army) and all those in the northern part of Uganda. The LRA would hide in the bush and abduct children. They then would subject them to all sorts of horrible atrocities to brain wash them and cause them to fight and kill others. The only place the children felt safe was to in the towns so they could not be abducted from the villages or refugee camps set up for those fleeing Sudan’s war. So children would walk miles and miles to reach Gulu to sleep crammed in safe places for the night to keep from being captured. Thousands and thousands would come and then return home during the day to try to live a life.
Today the LRA are still operating. They have been forced into the Democratic Republic of Congo right now. Peace has started to return to Gulu. That’s where we headed, to Gulu, for camp at two different schools for a week. It was a chance to go back to where this love affair with Africa began for me. It is a chance to see the area and hear the stories first hand. More importantly, it is a chance to share God’s love to people who have lived a life of terror.
I will write about the two schools separately as they are very different tales. Some of the information will overlap. Bear with me as I think they are essential to each or it’s just that I like to talk :). So here we go.
We left for Gulu Monday afternoon. We were supposed to leave before lunch, but things just didn’t work out that way. So the 4 Americans, our driver and son, our cook, and our security guard hit the road for the 5 hour or so drive to Gulu and then the 30 minutes to the school we would be camping in. As we had just reached the outside of Kampala our tire blew. This isn’t our first blown tire, so I jumped off to help. Unfortunately, we had a broken jack. We were able to drive to the next town to get some help. However, this took about an hour and a half of our day. That meant we would be pushing it to get there before dark. The ride is long and for the most part the landscape looks the same. The further north we went, the more you could tell it was dry season, as everything was turning brown. Ryan and I had been to Gulu for a day about two months ago. This however was the girl’s first trip. I was excited for them to see the Nile for the first time. I think most of us think of it as it is in Egypt, where it is calm and floods. In Uganda, though, it is a raging torrent of water. They were pretty surprised and amazed at what they saw, and it is an awesome sight. As we were entering the Gulu area, the sun was setting and as the worship songs played through the speakers I could not help but pray for this area so transformed by pain. As we headed out of Gulu and towards Andrew Macovy, the road we travel is the very road that soo many children would commute on. It was the road that was attacked by the LRA the most. Most of the thousands of children would pack into St Mary’s Hospital in Lacor, and as we drove by it I gave a thank you. The rest of the 10 kilometers from the hospital to our school were filled with thoughts of what it must have been like each night. We got there well after dark and unloaded most of our stuff. We were all tired so we left things for the morning and headed for the beds. As we were getting into the beds one of our three Acholi translators told us that the mosquitoes were bad here. Yeah that was no joke. They were everywhere and I think I saw some of them flying around with some small goats. They were that big. I didn’t sleep well that night as I was not feeling well and it was hot. The mosquitoes on my net were pretty loud too.
Day 1
The next morning when I woke I wasn’t feeling great. A sinus headache had formed and my nose was pretty runny. We were running the camp at Andrew McCovy in the mornings and then driving to Ayila in the afternoons. As we waited for the kids to get there I sat down with one of our translators named Godfrey. I asked him if he had always lived in Gulu and was he here during the war. Both of those were yeses. So I asked him what it had been like. He talked to me about making the commutes every day. All activites would stop by four in the afternoon. The road, which is the main road to Sudan, would be empty as no one would travel through the region. The dirt would then be filled with thousands of children heading to the hospital. Godfrey said he was actually lucky because he only had to walk about 5 kilometers to get there from where his family lived. Others would walk up to 15 kilometers every night to get there. Then early in the morning before the sun was up they would rise, gather their stuff, and wait for the light. Then they would head back home to go about the day as if it was normal. But it wasn’t. Godfrey told me about friends who were captured and family members who were taken and raped. He shared how gun shots would get within 300 yards or so from their house and that others would flee to their house because it was surrounded by a swamp. He talked about how the memories still haunt all those in the area, and in the back of their minds the LRA can still come back if Joseph Kony, their leader, is not caught.
After our conversation I took a walk through the bush. The dry season has turned all the grasses a golden brown. The landscape is similar to being in the savannah. The breeze was really blowing through the grass as if God’s spirit was whispering to this place. I could just hear God saying he was present and there was nothing to fear. I hoped I could be that whispering voice to the people during the week. This land has been torn by war and fear, where the children have been the targets. As I walked and prayed I found a tree that was perfect for climbing. It even had a perfect back rest about 15 feet up for me to relax and watch the grasses blow. My prayers were soon interrupted by the sounds of the drums at the school. I knew the others had gotten the drum circled started and I might wanna head back. As I did, it was if the drums were calling to the kids, and they soon emerged in front of me from out of the bush. The drums remind people of happier times. Times before these kids were ever born, but times we wanted to help them develop. The people here are returning to life, one of peace and joy. As we played games with them the laughter echoed through the hills and was carried off by the breeze. As I watched the others lead the games I noticed that a few older members of the community had now emerged. They stop and stare and smile. Their faces are worn and leathery by the years and the hot sun shining on them. The smiles show the gaps in their teeth but it doesn’t matter. I feel the spirit of God blow through again and the grasses bow and sing their songs of praise. It’s another day in Africa, one of redemption and new life.
Day 2
Today we changed things up a little with our format for camp. We decided to all play a little part and keep all the kids together. We all led games. Then I talked about volcanoes and how God’s love bubbles up inside us like a volcano while Ryan got the experiment ready. Ryan then helped them through the volcano experiment. I then taught them the song “Jesus’ Love is Bubbling Over.” I would have never thought I would use that one, but it went extremely well. Mallory did the object lesson about being dirty. Ryan did the Bible lesson on the woman at the well. Katie went over the memory verse, and then we all colored. It flowed perfectly, and was one of the smoothest days of camp we have had.
That afternoon when we got back I went and climbed up the tree. I was pretty tired from the sickness in my lungs now, but it is always good to just get away. The grass is on fire on the hillsides. They burn it to get the soil ready for the next year. The fires are close enough that once I get above the 10 foot grass, the popping of the fires makes it sound like I am sitting in a gigantic bowl of rice crispies. The fires carry on all night and once the sun goes down you can see orange glows all around. The stars are amazing here too. No light to block the view. As I stood and looked up at them I thought about how sometimes we have to be in the really dark places in order to appreciate God’s glory. Sometimes we even have to go through the fires. It is after we come to the other side of those fires though that God is ready to plant a new seed in us.
Day 3
Yep, I‘m still sick. My sinus cold now has my lungs hating life and there is mucus everywhere. Last night I hardly slept because breathing was tuff and my head was pounding. Finally, the sun came up, and I got up with it. We decided to stick with what worked the day before. So, we each played games. Then Mallory and Katie taught them “Come Away with Me.” This has really been our theme song for the trip and it was great listening to the kids trying to sing it. Then I gave the Jesus is the Messiah message. This is week number 5 of giving this talk and it is always different. Needless to say, I am always amazed at how God uses it to speak to them. We colored at the end. The rest of my morning was filled with Katie pouring salt water down my nose, Not Pleasant!
Day 4
As we have gone through the week our crowd has continued to grow. Today we have around 130 kids. The last day is also fun because we don’t have to explain the games 10 times. It is so nice to watch their faces light up and the giggles to come from them as we play each day. The joy is really returning. Before Mallory talked about sharing God’s love with others, we sang the two songs we taught them. The words in “Come Away” go – I have a plan for you. I have a plan for you. It’s gonna be wild. It’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be full of me. Those words are written to be God singing over us. God does have a plan for each one of them. I know he has used them to help me.
Today we finished with gift giving. We passed out donations from lots of different places. We had dolls, dresses, skirts, shoes, toothbrushes, bags, and assorted other things. We let each child come in and pick something they wanted. They would smile and kneel after receiving their gift. As I prayed to close out our time with them, I couldn’t help but wonder who had given who the gift. These kids follow us around and watch our every move. We play games, sing song, and give them God’s word. However, they show us joy, teach us how to rely on God, and prove that Hope can overcome so much. It has been such a great week. I am so thankful for what this place means to me. I am thankful that God makes beautiful things out of ugly situations. I am thankful that Jesus’ love in bubbling over!
Today the LRA are still operating. They have been forced into the Democratic Republic of Congo right now. Peace has started to return to Gulu. That’s where we headed, to Gulu, for camp at two different schools for a week. It was a chance to go back to where this love affair with Africa began for me. It is a chance to see the area and hear the stories first hand. More importantly, it is a chance to share God’s love to people who have lived a life of terror.
I will write about the two schools separately as they are very different tales. Some of the information will overlap. Bear with me as I think they are essential to each or it’s just that I like to talk :). So here we go.
We left for Gulu Monday afternoon. We were supposed to leave before lunch, but things just didn’t work out that way. So the 4 Americans, our driver and son, our cook, and our security guard hit the road for the 5 hour or so drive to Gulu and then the 30 minutes to the school we would be camping in. As we had just reached the outside of Kampala our tire blew. This isn’t our first blown tire, so I jumped off to help. Unfortunately, we had a broken jack. We were able to drive to the next town to get some help. However, this took about an hour and a half of our day. That meant we would be pushing it to get there before dark. The ride is long and for the most part the landscape looks the same. The further north we went, the more you could tell it was dry season, as everything was turning brown. Ryan and I had been to Gulu for a day about two months ago. This however was the girl’s first trip. I was excited for them to see the Nile for the first time. I think most of us think of it as it is in Egypt, where it is calm and floods. In Uganda, though, it is a raging torrent of water. They were pretty surprised and amazed at what they saw, and it is an awesome sight. As we were entering the Gulu area, the sun was setting and as the worship songs played through the speakers I could not help but pray for this area so transformed by pain. As we headed out of Gulu and towards Andrew Macovy, the road we travel is the very road that soo many children would commute on. It was the road that was attacked by the LRA the most. Most of the thousands of children would pack into St Mary’s Hospital in Lacor, and as we drove by it I gave a thank you. The rest of the 10 kilometers from the hospital to our school were filled with thoughts of what it must have been like each night. We got there well after dark and unloaded most of our stuff. We were all tired so we left things for the morning and headed for the beds. As we were getting into the beds one of our three Acholi translators told us that the mosquitoes were bad here. Yeah that was no joke. They were everywhere and I think I saw some of them flying around with some small goats. They were that big. I didn’t sleep well that night as I was not feeling well and it was hot. The mosquitoes on my net were pretty loud too.
Day 1
The next morning when I woke I wasn’t feeling great. A sinus headache had formed and my nose was pretty runny. We were running the camp at Andrew McCovy in the mornings and then driving to Ayila in the afternoons. As we waited for the kids to get there I sat down with one of our translators named Godfrey. I asked him if he had always lived in Gulu and was he here during the war. Both of those were yeses. So I asked him what it had been like. He talked to me about making the commutes every day. All activites would stop by four in the afternoon. The road, which is the main road to Sudan, would be empty as no one would travel through the region. The dirt would then be filled with thousands of children heading to the hospital. Godfrey said he was actually lucky because he only had to walk about 5 kilometers to get there from where his family lived. Others would walk up to 15 kilometers every night to get there. Then early in the morning before the sun was up they would rise, gather their stuff, and wait for the light. Then they would head back home to go about the day as if it was normal. But it wasn’t. Godfrey told me about friends who were captured and family members who were taken and raped. He shared how gun shots would get within 300 yards or so from their house and that others would flee to their house because it was surrounded by a swamp. He talked about how the memories still haunt all those in the area, and in the back of their minds the LRA can still come back if Joseph Kony, their leader, is not caught.
After our conversation I took a walk through the bush. The dry season has turned all the grasses a golden brown. The landscape is similar to being in the savannah. The breeze was really blowing through the grass as if God’s spirit was whispering to this place. I could just hear God saying he was present and there was nothing to fear. I hoped I could be that whispering voice to the people during the week. This land has been torn by war and fear, where the children have been the targets. As I walked and prayed I found a tree that was perfect for climbing. It even had a perfect back rest about 15 feet up for me to relax and watch the grasses blow. My prayers were soon interrupted by the sounds of the drums at the school. I knew the others had gotten the drum circled started and I might wanna head back. As I did, it was if the drums were calling to the kids, and they soon emerged in front of me from out of the bush. The drums remind people of happier times. Times before these kids were ever born, but times we wanted to help them develop. The people here are returning to life, one of peace and joy. As we played games with them the laughter echoed through the hills and was carried off by the breeze. As I watched the others lead the games I noticed that a few older members of the community had now emerged. They stop and stare and smile. Their faces are worn and leathery by the years and the hot sun shining on them. The smiles show the gaps in their teeth but it doesn’t matter. I feel the spirit of God blow through again and the grasses bow and sing their songs of praise. It’s another day in Africa, one of redemption and new life.
Day 2
Today we changed things up a little with our format for camp. We decided to all play a little part and keep all the kids together. We all led games. Then I talked about volcanoes and how God’s love bubbles up inside us like a volcano while Ryan got the experiment ready. Ryan then helped them through the volcano experiment. I then taught them the song “Jesus’ Love is Bubbling Over.” I would have never thought I would use that one, but it went extremely well. Mallory did the object lesson about being dirty. Ryan did the Bible lesson on the woman at the well. Katie went over the memory verse, and then we all colored. It flowed perfectly, and was one of the smoothest days of camp we have had.
That afternoon when we got back I went and climbed up the tree. I was pretty tired from the sickness in my lungs now, but it is always good to just get away. The grass is on fire on the hillsides. They burn it to get the soil ready for the next year. The fires are close enough that once I get above the 10 foot grass, the popping of the fires makes it sound like I am sitting in a gigantic bowl of rice crispies. The fires carry on all night and once the sun goes down you can see orange glows all around. The stars are amazing here too. No light to block the view. As I stood and looked up at them I thought about how sometimes we have to be in the really dark places in order to appreciate God’s glory. Sometimes we even have to go through the fires. It is after we come to the other side of those fires though that God is ready to plant a new seed in us.
Day 3
Yep, I‘m still sick. My sinus cold now has my lungs hating life and there is mucus everywhere. Last night I hardly slept because breathing was tuff and my head was pounding. Finally, the sun came up, and I got up with it. We decided to stick with what worked the day before. So, we each played games. Then Mallory and Katie taught them “Come Away with Me.” This has really been our theme song for the trip and it was great listening to the kids trying to sing it. Then I gave the Jesus is the Messiah message. This is week number 5 of giving this talk and it is always different. Needless to say, I am always amazed at how God uses it to speak to them. We colored at the end. The rest of my morning was filled with Katie pouring salt water down my nose, Not Pleasant!
Day 4
As we have gone through the week our crowd has continued to grow. Today we have around 130 kids. The last day is also fun because we don’t have to explain the games 10 times. It is so nice to watch their faces light up and the giggles to come from them as we play each day. The joy is really returning. Before Mallory talked about sharing God’s love with others, we sang the two songs we taught them. The words in “Come Away” go – I have a plan for you. I have a plan for you. It’s gonna be wild. It’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be full of me. Those words are written to be God singing over us. God does have a plan for each one of them. I know he has used them to help me.
Today we finished with gift giving. We passed out donations from lots of different places. We had dolls, dresses, skirts, shoes, toothbrushes, bags, and assorted other things. We let each child come in and pick something they wanted. They would smile and kneel after receiving their gift. As I prayed to close out our time with them, I couldn’t help but wonder who had given who the gift. These kids follow us around and watch our every move. We play games, sing song, and give them God’s word. However, they show us joy, teach us how to rely on God, and prove that Hope can overcome so much. It has been such a great week. I am so thankful for what this place means to me. I am thankful that God makes beautiful things out of ugly situations. I am thankful that Jesus’ love in bubbling over!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Safety Instruction Card
Most of us have flown on a plane. Just after they shut the doors and start to pull away from the gate, you are asked to watch the flight attendants and are asked to get your safety instruction card out of the seat back in front of you. The flight attendants go over where the exits are, how to buckle and unbuckle your seat belt, what to do in case of emergency, how to get oxygen, and how to use your seat as a floatation device among other things. While this is going on, very few people are listening. Most people are reading the paper, looking out the window, reading another book, or simply not paying attention. Maybe if it is your first flight you might listen. The interesting thing is that they are giving you the information you need to save your life. It is the most important information you could know while on the trip and people don’t pay attention.
Presenting the gospel of Christ is very similar. We are telling people the most important information in their life and ultimately what will save it and people are not paying attention. They are too busy finding something else to do. Maybe they have never heard it and so they pay attention the first time, but after that they think they have already heard it all. And who really takes that safety card out and reads it anyway? How do we respond when we have the keys to a better life and people just don’t listen?
This last week we have had a team of 14 Americans working with us, or really we have been working with them. Each morning we go to the streets. This is actually the most we have been engrossed with the street boys because it is with the same ones every day. Previously, we would be at a different slum or program every day. Now we see the same boys. Each day we see the same problems. We spend our day breaking up fights, fights because they don’t know how to communicate or how to forgive, so we try to teach them. Every day we see boys who are high and hardly able to move. We take away their rags soaked with fuel that they sniff to get high. They kick and scream and yell at us. We try to tell them part of the reason they are sick is because they do this to themselves. We explain that it is doing them harm. The next day, we are stealing the rag again. We see boys with cuts all over their bodies. Some of the cuts are new and some are old. Some of the cuts are on the surface and some are deep and infected. Quickly, each day, they come over to the medical station to get help and attention. I hear Katie and the others who are helping give them instructions for each wound. Don’t pull this off, wash this with soap and water, wear your shoes, or don’t pick at this or it won’t heal. Sometimes we have to get the infection out and it hurts. We try to explain that it is necessary for them to heal, but we still have to hold them during the kicking and screaming. The next day they come back with no bandage, dirty wounds, carrying their shoes, laughing that we are frustrated, and wanting more help. Needless to say, it gets frustrating.
It is a constant fight between what we are trying to teach them and the life they know. Each day when you see one of them come stumbling in smelling horrible or sitting off to the side smoking weed, the desire is to feel defeated and want to give up. However, there is a stronger desire in each of us to love. When we quickly run over to grab their hands and tell them to put the rocks down they have picked up to throw, it is not anger at them but anger at their choices. When we scold them for stealing or biting and make them sit down or tell them they can’t have food if they do it again, it isn’t because we are mad. It is simply because we love them and want them to learn. As I was sharing with an uncle this week about discipline I said, “When I see a kid do something wrong, I don’t let them get away with it. I must discipline them somehow. I want them to learn from their mistake because I love them. If I don’t do anything to correct their behavior then I don’t care enough about them or I don’t love them enough.”
There are many times the boys look at us with tears and angry faces and yell, “Why?” There are many times we try to correct the wrongs with tears in our eyes asking them “Why?” The pain comes from both ends. Each day we find ourselves in prayer for guidance and for their lives to change. We want to see victory and yet this week we have made 4 trips to the hospital for all sorts of things from overdoses to HIV infection to broken arms. It seems as if defeat is all we see.
Then there is me. I go through this cycle every day. I try hard to help those who won’t listen to the voice of reason, accept help from someone who love them, and change to live a better life. However, I realize I am describing myself. My life is full of this same story. Each day God is trying to love me and so many times I push Him away. He has bandaged my wounds, given me clothes to wear, and extended His love to me. Yet I come back with the bandages torn off, wounds infected, shivering in the cold, and running to love something else. Through it all, I scream, “Why?” Sometimes I find myself suffering from the choices I have made, and wallowing around in the punishment that comes from those choices. Other times I find myself simply wrapped up in the arms of love that are always ready for me to run to. I can’t imagine how frustrated God must feel sometimes. I can’t imagine the hurt He feels when we do what will hurt us.
I think about Revelation 3:17-20, “You say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.
Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them, and he with me.
I am no different. So many times I have traded the robes of God for the rags of my life. I have heard the words of Christ said to me over and over and yet I don’t always listen. However, just like the boys I do know where to go for the help. Even if I don’t do what I am supposed to do, I still know where to go to be loved. We thank God after days for bringing the worst cases to us to receive the help even if we are frustrated. I thank God for the patience to wait for the boys and love them, AND I thank God for having the patience to love me in my wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked state. Today, I will choose to open the door when I hear God knocking and I will choose2B changed. I will pull out the card from the seat in front of me and read it so I will know how my life can be saved. I thank God for the chance to learn from my friends on the streets and see myself in them.
Presenting the gospel of Christ is very similar. We are telling people the most important information in their life and ultimately what will save it and people are not paying attention. They are too busy finding something else to do. Maybe they have never heard it and so they pay attention the first time, but after that they think they have already heard it all. And who really takes that safety card out and reads it anyway? How do we respond when we have the keys to a better life and people just don’t listen?
This last week we have had a team of 14 Americans working with us, or really we have been working with them. Each morning we go to the streets. This is actually the most we have been engrossed with the street boys because it is with the same ones every day. Previously, we would be at a different slum or program every day. Now we see the same boys. Each day we see the same problems. We spend our day breaking up fights, fights because they don’t know how to communicate or how to forgive, so we try to teach them. Every day we see boys who are high and hardly able to move. We take away their rags soaked with fuel that they sniff to get high. They kick and scream and yell at us. We try to tell them part of the reason they are sick is because they do this to themselves. We explain that it is doing them harm. The next day, we are stealing the rag again. We see boys with cuts all over their bodies. Some of the cuts are new and some are old. Some of the cuts are on the surface and some are deep and infected. Quickly, each day, they come over to the medical station to get help and attention. I hear Katie and the others who are helping give them instructions for each wound. Don’t pull this off, wash this with soap and water, wear your shoes, or don’t pick at this or it won’t heal. Sometimes we have to get the infection out and it hurts. We try to explain that it is necessary for them to heal, but we still have to hold them during the kicking and screaming. The next day they come back with no bandage, dirty wounds, carrying their shoes, laughing that we are frustrated, and wanting more help. Needless to say, it gets frustrating.
It is a constant fight between what we are trying to teach them and the life they know. Each day when you see one of them come stumbling in smelling horrible or sitting off to the side smoking weed, the desire is to feel defeated and want to give up. However, there is a stronger desire in each of us to love. When we quickly run over to grab their hands and tell them to put the rocks down they have picked up to throw, it is not anger at them but anger at their choices. When we scold them for stealing or biting and make them sit down or tell them they can’t have food if they do it again, it isn’t because we are mad. It is simply because we love them and want them to learn. As I was sharing with an uncle this week about discipline I said, “When I see a kid do something wrong, I don’t let them get away with it. I must discipline them somehow. I want them to learn from their mistake because I love them. If I don’t do anything to correct their behavior then I don’t care enough about them or I don’t love them enough.”
There are many times the boys look at us with tears and angry faces and yell, “Why?” There are many times we try to correct the wrongs with tears in our eyes asking them “Why?” The pain comes from both ends. Each day we find ourselves in prayer for guidance and for their lives to change. We want to see victory and yet this week we have made 4 trips to the hospital for all sorts of things from overdoses to HIV infection to broken arms. It seems as if defeat is all we see.
Then there is me. I go through this cycle every day. I try hard to help those who won’t listen to the voice of reason, accept help from someone who love them, and change to live a better life. However, I realize I am describing myself. My life is full of this same story. Each day God is trying to love me and so many times I push Him away. He has bandaged my wounds, given me clothes to wear, and extended His love to me. Yet I come back with the bandages torn off, wounds infected, shivering in the cold, and running to love something else. Through it all, I scream, “Why?” Sometimes I find myself suffering from the choices I have made, and wallowing around in the punishment that comes from those choices. Other times I find myself simply wrapped up in the arms of love that are always ready for me to run to. I can’t imagine how frustrated God must feel sometimes. I can’t imagine the hurt He feels when we do what will hurt us.
I think about Revelation 3:17-20, “You say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.
Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them, and he with me.
I am no different. So many times I have traded the robes of God for the rags of my life. I have heard the words of Christ said to me over and over and yet I don’t always listen. However, just like the boys I do know where to go for the help. Even if I don’t do what I am supposed to do, I still know where to go to be loved. We thank God after days for bringing the worst cases to us to receive the help even if we are frustrated. I thank God for the patience to wait for the boys and love them, AND I thank God for having the patience to love me in my wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked state. Today, I will choose to open the door when I hear God knocking and I will choose2B changed. I will pull out the card from the seat in front of me and read it so I will know how my life can be saved. I thank God for the chance to learn from my friends on the streets and see myself in them.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
My cooper coins
Matthew 12:41-44
41 Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. 42 But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.
43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”
A few times in my life I have been privileged enough to see this scripture play out. Each time it is quite humbling to see people give out of their poverty. Last week while we were in Buyobe, we saw this scene played out every day. Buyobe, as a community, is even considered poor by the Ugandans. Yet every day when the students would arrive, they would be carrying gifts. One might be carrying an ear of corn, another might have a lemon, and another might hand you some potatoes. You never really knew what they were going to give you. You just knew that it was from the heart and it was all they had and probably a sacrifice to give.
Buyobe is not the only place in which people have given to us and welcomed us. It happens all the time and is a part of their culture and quite Biblical. Not only do we receive the physical gifts, but we have received the gifts of love. This however is not something they are poor in. Jesus sends off the disciples in groups of two in Matthew 10. Check out verses 11-14. Jesus is speaking to the disciples about being welcomed in a place. Now when we have entered homes, schools, churches, or simply walked into someone’s presence we usually hear, “You are welcome.” At first we thought this was very odd since we only use the phrase in the US after hearing thank you. However, I have learned it is best to receive this greeting at first and have the intentions of the person made known. They are giving us their welcome. They are extending their love to us. Needless to say I have never had to entertain the thought of shaking the dust from my feet, and believe me at the end of the day there is quite a bit.
When I look at my own life I desire to live this way. However, more often than not, I find myself checking to see if I can afford the gift. Can I afford to give my time and welcome someone? How much is this going to cost me in the end? Each day here I am reminded to not let my left hand know what my right hand is doing when I give (Matt 6:3). Truthfully it is so freeing. The other day I heard someone describe that giving our gifts was similar to holding an egg. God has given us these eggs (gifts). However, if we hold on to them too tight, then we will crush them and be no good for anybody. I don’t want my hands to be sticky and gross. I want them to be free. I desire to give freely out of my love and faithfulness, regardless of riches or poverty. I want to give all I have. I am trying to learn from my neighbors because they have soo much to teach. I choose2B a sacrificial giver, and in the words of the rapper K’naan, “Yeah Africa, you helped me write this, by showing me to give is priceless!”
41 Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. 42 But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.
43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”
A few times in my life I have been privileged enough to see this scripture play out. Each time it is quite humbling to see people give out of their poverty. Last week while we were in Buyobe, we saw this scene played out every day. Buyobe, as a community, is even considered poor by the Ugandans. Yet every day when the students would arrive, they would be carrying gifts. One might be carrying an ear of corn, another might have a lemon, and another might hand you some potatoes. You never really knew what they were going to give you. You just knew that it was from the heart and it was all they had and probably a sacrifice to give.
Buyobe is not the only place in which people have given to us and welcomed us. It happens all the time and is a part of their culture and quite Biblical. Not only do we receive the physical gifts, but we have received the gifts of love. This however is not something they are poor in. Jesus sends off the disciples in groups of two in Matthew 10. Check out verses 11-14. Jesus is speaking to the disciples about being welcomed in a place. Now when we have entered homes, schools, churches, or simply walked into someone’s presence we usually hear, “You are welcome.” At first we thought this was very odd since we only use the phrase in the US after hearing thank you. However, I have learned it is best to receive this greeting at first and have the intentions of the person made known. They are giving us their welcome. They are extending their love to us. Needless to say I have never had to entertain the thought of shaking the dust from my feet, and believe me at the end of the day there is quite a bit.
When I look at my own life I desire to live this way. However, more often than not, I find myself checking to see if I can afford the gift. Can I afford to give my time and welcome someone? How much is this going to cost me in the end? Each day here I am reminded to not let my left hand know what my right hand is doing when I give (Matt 6:3). Truthfully it is so freeing. The other day I heard someone describe that giving our gifts was similar to holding an egg. God has given us these eggs (gifts). However, if we hold on to them too tight, then we will crush them and be no good for anybody. I don’t want my hands to be sticky and gross. I want them to be free. I desire to give freely out of my love and faithfulness, regardless of riches or poverty. I want to give all I have. I am trying to learn from my neighbors because they have soo much to teach. I choose2B a sacrificial giver, and in the words of the rapper K’naan, “Yeah Africa, you helped me write this, by showing me to give is priceless!”
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