My bags from the my trip to Uganda are empty and stored again under my bed, but I'm still unpacking. I'm breathless at the privileges the Lord gave me, the miracles I witnessed, and the words He said to me while I was there.
I've been back about two weeks and I'm still bringing to the Lord all the hopes, dreams, fears, and insecurities He stirred up through this experience. Hopes and dreams of living there and serving Him there in the future; fears and insecurities that I am one, very limited person and what I have to offer is too small to make a lasting impact.
When these fears and insecurities rise up I have to remind myself that it's not about me. I can't do anything apart from Him (John 15:5) and He doesn't need my help (Acts 17:24-28). Also, the way He assigns work to His children is infinitely wise. He doesn't give someone a whole country to care for; He doesn't even give someone a whole town. He gives each of us a small circle of individual people to encourage and work beside. His design is to use us in partnership with others, particularly the local church.
If I look at the multitude, I get overwhelmed and discouraged. If I look at the individual child or woman He's placed in front of me, I can take a deep breath and focus on my very small assignment. I can offer up to the Lord whatever resources He's given me and watch Him multiply it for His glory.
"When Jesus went ashore, He saw a large crowd, and felt compassion for them and healed their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to Him and said, “This place is desolate and the hour is already late; so send the crowds away, that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” But Jesus said to them, “They do not need to go away; you give them something to eat!” They *said to Him, “We have here only five loaves and two fish.” And He said, “Bring them here to Me.” Ordering the people to sit down on the grass, He took the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up toward heaven, He blessed the food, and breaking the loaves He gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds, and they all ate and were satisfied. They picked up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve full baskets." Matthew 14:14-20
"You give them something to eat." Okay, Lord. What does that look like? How do I partner with You to meet the needs of those around me when it's obviously more than I can do on my own?
He gave me a glimpse of that through a young man I've sponsored through Children's HopeChest. Over the past three years, Ibrahim Mulondo has become like a son to me through exchanging letters, praying for him, and visiting him when the team from Summit church travels to Nabukalu. All year long I was anticipating the time we would get to spend connecting one on one, face to face. I could hardly wait to see first hand how much he had grown spiritually, emotionally, and physically.
I got my opportunity our last Sunday in Nabukalu when the team walked the dirt trail to the Carepoint grounds one last time. After working four busy days in the medical clinic, we were going to get to rest and enjoy church with our kids. The children lined up on each side, greeting us with incredible singing and dancing. I smiled at them and looked eagerly for my Ibrahim.
One young man looked a lot like him, but he wasn't as tall as I thought he should be by now and was gaunt-looking. I thought "I wonder if he's Ibrahim's younger brother" and kept looking.
I had met my sponsored daughter, Mariam, the day before in the clinic and we hugged each other excitedly when we saw each other again. She pointed to that same young man that caught my eye and said: "Ibrahim, Madam."
I was shocked. I hadn't recognized him because he had lost so much weight. I hugged him and greeted him with a big smile but inside my heart sank at how unwell he looked. He gave me his usual shy smile but seemed so tired.
We walked together to the large tent that was set up for the church service so we could sit and talk. I did my best not to interrogate him but I knew we had a short time together and asked some direct questions. He shared that he had been fighting malaria multiple times this year. (It's parasitic in origin and difficult to get rid of once you are infected). He was getting treatment but he didn't have a mosquito net over his bed to help prevent reinfection. Compounding his poor health, some restructuring changes at the Carepoint (necessary, good changes) have made it more difficult for him to consistently access nutritious meals. He still came on-site for the activities on the weekend, but he was eating a much poorer diet overall.
"Malnutrition and malaria? This is not what I expected to find Ibrahim facing, Lord. He's supposed to be two inches taller than me and full of life." I tried to keep calm but I wanted to move in next store to his house and spoon feed him goat and beans until he gained ten pounds.
As crazy as this sounds, I thought that maybe God would spare my child from suffering. I had an unconscious belief that bad things would happen to other children, but not to him. It was another wake-up call to the fact that we aren't promised safety or comfort.
Church began and I wrestled with the Lord over the fact that I couldn't keep Ibrahim or anyone else close to me from experiencing sickness, hardship or pain. The hard reality that I couldn't control whether my sponsored son lived or died this year hit me and made me catch my breath as I sang worship songs beside him.
"But he's supposed to go to the University and become an engineer like he wants to be, Lord. He's supposed to grow up and keep winning others in his community to Christ."
I heard the Lord gently remind me that Ibrahim's life was wholly Christ's and so was mine. I don't have any power over life or death, only He does. I silently prayed and committed us both back into His keeping.
As the praise song continued, I suddenly had this clear picture in my head of worshipping before the throne of God in heaven with everyone I love: Ibrahim, my parents, my late husband, my other immediate family members and dearest friends. We were all dressed in white and praising God with one voice, one heart. I had incredible peace fill me and a strong confidence that life here was just the beginning. Thousands of miles of distance or even death can't ultimately separate me from Christ or from those who belong to Him.
"Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is wasting away, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. For we know that if the earthly tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 2 Corinthians 4:16 - 5:1
Our bodies are just as much a temporary tent as the one that was physically over our heads in that grassy Ugandan field. Although it's natural and right to want to protect our loved ones and keep them close, I'm grateful for the reminder that our lives aren't ultimately about safety, health, or comfort.
I needed a reminder that, as a Christ-follower, I am freed from fearfully clinging to this life and even to my loved ones. I am, by His grace, freed to put my energy into enjoying God, pursuing holiness, and manifesting His grace to those around me. I haven't arrived there, but every day I'm pursuing that kind of eternal perspective.
Although I'm freed from acting out of fear, I am still called to holistically care for others; spirit, soul, and body. There are real biblical commands that make me responsible to help care for the physical and emotional needs of others as an expression of Christ's love.
"We know love by this, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?" 1 John 3:16-17
Once I gave over control of Ibrahim's life and future, God mercifully showed me some practical ways to impact his situation before I left. I brought his situation to the attention of Susan, the Carepoint discipler, and she shared with me that she lived in the very same village that Ibrahim did. I hugged her tightly and cried when she told me she was willing to check up on him for me!
I also shared his needs with the Children's HopeChest country director, Joseph, and the Carepoint social worker, Betty, and asked them how they thought he could be assisted. They agreed that some supplemental food for his household and a mosquito net was appropriate. I gave a small gift to help cover the costs and they immediately made plans for Betty to visit him at home.
God was sweet to comfort me very quickly! I was overwhelmed when I learned that Betty and Susan had already visited Ibrahim within days of our conversation. They brought him all kinds of nutritious dry goods (beans, corn, cooking oil, ect) as well as a net for his bed.
These two precious ladies also emotionally and spiritually cared for Ibrahim and his mother by spending time talking and praying with them. Betty wrote to me in an email last week: "He and the Mum felt so loved and cared for. We prayed with him and the Mum and advised him to work hard at school. I also reminded them of Gods Love for them."
"Thank You, Lord!"
Spirit, soul, and body were all fed and cared for by God's grace and He let me be one tiny piece in that puzzle. He doesn't need me for anything, but it delights my heart to get to walk behind Him and marvel at His provision. All glory to God alone!
"Trust in the Lord and do good;
Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.
Delight yourself in the Lord;
And He will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the Lord,
Trust also in Him, and He will do it." Psalms 37:3-5
