It's not about me

Joy's journal entry June 5th 2012—“I woke up this morning in my bed in Africa feeling like a princess that was given the world as a gift. Uganda is my gift and I feel so much at home here it overwhelms me. The Lord did a sweet correcting work in my heart through Isaiah 61:1-3. This is not about me.”

By God’s grace and nearly thirty hours of travel by air, our six-man team had finally set foot in Uganda, Africa. Our flight had landed at the Entebbe International Airport around ten o’clock on June 4th and we drove only a short distance to get where we would stay the night. It was nearly eleven when we ate a fried chicken dinner and wearily trudged up the stairs our rooms. Taking a shower before bed made me feel somewhat human again, and I groggily remembered to avoid touching the metal pipes since Ugandan plumbing can sometimes be “shocky” (electricity sneaks out through the pipes and zaps you at inconvenient times). I tucked my net around me in bed, shut off my little flashlight, and slept like a rock.

When I crept out of my room around 7am the next morning, my heart was full of the emotions I wrote about in my journal excerpt. I made my way down the dim hall and stepped out onto a large porch on the second floor. The view was jaw-dropping. Entebbe sits on the northern shores of Lake Victoria, Africa's largest lake, and our hotel was practically on the beach.  Palm trees framed dark blue water for miles. The only sounds were birds waking up and waves lapping in the distance.

Living in Florida for sixteen years has made me somewhat familiar with coastal beauty, but something about Uganda always strikes me as being refreshingly raw and wild. 
This is one the many times over my next two weeks in Uganda where the term “suffering for Jesus” just didn’t seem to fit. I felt spoiled rotten by God to be here and wondered why He picked me to have this privilege. I sat down a chair and opened my Bible to Isaiah 61:1-3.

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me, because the Lord has anointed Me to bring good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; the proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn, to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord that He may be glorified.”  Isaiah 61:1-3

The words “poor”, “brokenhearted”, “captives”, and “those who are bound” gripped me immediately. At first glance the descriptions seemed to fit the people of Uganda; the men, women, and children who are in the middle of the hard realities of living in a third world country where a bowl of corn mash or a pair of shoes are considered "extras". God whispered to my heart something along the lines of, “No, Joy, that’s the description of people. All people. Period.” Very gently, but firmly He exposed a pocket of superiority, pride, and “Here I am to save the day!” in my heart. I leaned back in my chair, repulsed by that. “Who am I to come here and think I’m going to ‘rescue’ and ‘be on mission’? I’m in the same condition.” Every human being is a mess on the inside, no matter their education, money, social situation, living conditions, or good intentions. Romans 3:10-18 gives shocking insight into the state of our hearts without Christ and I need daily reminders of my neediness for Him.

I cried out in my heart “Oh God, what do I even have to offer these people?” Quietly I heard Him again: “Me.” Oh. Relieved and humbled it struck me again that this it’s not about me. God does not need me in Uganda or any other place. In fact, He doesn't have need of anyone or anything.

"..He is not served by human hands, as if He needed anything. Rather, He Himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else." Acts 17:25

A good friend of mine recently reminded me that you don’t involve a toddler in your work so you can get more done. He loves me and wants me to participate, but the idea that He needs me is actually laughable. I breathed out, “Oh, okay, Lord. I like that plan.” If He wants a funny little kid trailing behind Him every day to watch Him work, I'd like that job. If He wants me to come to Uganda to point Him out to others and talk about Him, sign me up. If it glorifies Him to show everyone my neediness for Him, I never want to completely "have it together". I'm glad to do that wherever He has me breathing and my heart beating.

“For who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has become His counselor? Or who has first given to Him and it shall be repaid to him? For of Him and through Him and to Him are all things, to whom be glory forever. Amen.”   Romans 11:34-35

It's not about me. To HIM be the glory.  Amen!