Wednesday, July 27th - Darkness is Not Dark to You

For our team, this week in Uganda has been a wild ride of emotional highs and lows.  We have delighted in meeting new people, rejoiced with them for the goodness of God and for those who have accepted salvation, we have laughed and shared stories, meals, and encouraging words.  But we have mourned for what we have witnessed as well, people suffering for lack of basic human necessities, orphaned children left to wander the trash and animal filled streets.  We have been humbled by the strength and resolve, by love and joy overflowing the walls of Ebenezer Church because of the great faith of His people here.  Truly, we have ascended to heaven and we have made our bed in Sheol…  We’ve clung truth of God's word in Psalms, “even the darkness is not dark to You.” Psalm 139:12

Every afternoon at our crusade, I have held the hand of a little boy named Felix. I didn’t get his picture, but I will not forget his face.  I think he is the same age as my daughter and very soft spoken. Outside of knowing his name and his beautiful smile, I don’t really know much about him.  He hasn’t said much.  But last night, he signaled for me to come close so that he speak to me.  I bent down and he whispered in my ear, “I want to leave Africa and go with you.”  I know this can be a common sentiment from children here, but not for Felix.  I sensed that it took great courage for him to speak any words but especially these words to me.  I was crushed at the thought of saying no (oh, how I wish I could say yes!), but thankfully the Lord gave me words to respond.  “Felix, I cannot take you home with me.  You have a very important job to do in Uganda.  I need you to stay and tell everyone here about the love of Jesus.  If you’ll do that, then I will come back and visit you as much as the Lord allows.”  After the crusade, we walked back to the church and said our goodbyes.  And from the backseat of the car, comforted by Cathy and Kenya, I sat there in the darkness and sobbed.  We have made promises to each other, and I can’t bear the thought that they become only empty words.  Oh Lord please don’t let it be so. 

Pray for our team as we say farewell to our Ugandan friends and family.  And pray for and be patient with us as we return to you and discover that life has somehow changed after what we have witnessed.  Pray for the people of Ebenezer Baptist Church (they are praying for you daily) and pray for Uganda.

Tuesday, July 26th Sweeter than Honey

Hallelujah!  Our team has been blessed to spend time with the men and women of Ebenezer Baptist Church in small group studies this week.  We realize that God is doing great things while we are here, but our desire is to emphasize discipleship as well, raising up Ugandan missionaries to minister to their own people in ways that foreigners never could.  We came here to share and to teach, but by their eagerness to learn and to testify of the Lord’s goodness in their lives, WE have been blessed beyond measure!  Is there anything so special as sharing in the daily living of another, trading stories and ideas and sharing in the work of cooking, child rearing, and house-keeping and then to pause, open our Bibles together and spend time meditating on His word and His love.  Indeed, there is ‘something sweeter than honey.’  Amen.

Monday, July 25th Not To Sob, But To Rejoice

Not to Sob but to Rejoice

The struggle is real.  Whether in the US or in Uganda, providing the basic human need for education is an overwhelmingly difficult task.  This week our team has been able to visit some of the public schools in Mbale and bear witness to the burdens Ugandan teachers and students must bear.  Yesterday, when we arrived at Doko Nursery and Primary School, the bell was ringing for recess.  There are 900 students at this facility and every single one, it seemed, came rushing to our cars to greet us.  After they returned to their classrooms we were able to meet with the school principal/administrator.  She welcomed us into her small office and we marveled at the posters on her walls.  She welcomed us and we were excited to hear that she is a believer and is guiding and directing the students and staff to follow Jesus.  A simple word from Proverbs on a poster beside the door, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge…”

“Good Morning, Visitors.  Welcome to Doko School…”  Each class of children would chant in unison as we entered their classroom.  I was amazed and astounded at the strength and resolve of each teacher, a commanding yet comforting control of classes with sometimes over 100 children.  100 children to just one teacher.  The discipline on display was wonderful, but massive class sizes like this come with massive difficulties.  How can a teacher spend individual time with each one, teaching them to form letters and solve mathematical equations?  What about the children with special needs who cannot afford the tuition of a private school dedicated to their needs?  How do you provide so many students with basic materials needed for learning?  With so many problems, Ugandan teachers could easily lose heart, throw out their hands in defeat and give up…

But what I witnessed was hands lifted in praise to God for His blessings and hearts lifted up to Him earnestly in prayer for guidance, wisdom, and providence for every need.  What I witnessed was Joy.  Our team left those schools with a newfound resolve, a desire greater than ever to help and pray for Ugandan schools.  In one class I visited, I noticed this prayer on display.  Father, let it be our heart…not to sob but to rejoice in You…

Sunday, July 24th - Thus Far The Lord Has Brought Us

Today was incredible.  At the risk of sounding cliché, I think it’s safe to say that worship has forever changed for me.  Today I sang, I shouted, I clapped, I danced, I held babies, and I witnessed pure, honest joy in the Lord.  The people of Ebenezer are a family that has learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  As Paul wrote in Philippians, that secret is rejoicing, it’s worship of a Heavenly Father that provides for our every need.  And oh, how we worshiped Him today in spirit and truth!  We heard from the adult choir, the children's choir, the youth choir, soloists, those sharing testimony, we dedicated children to the Lord, we heard a great message from Pastor Ken, and we all praised God together for several hours.  Ebenezer's adult choir wore matching purple shirts with a verse from 1 Samuel printed on the back, referring to the altar stone set up by Samuel which he named 'Ebenezer'.  The shirts say, “Thus far the Lord has brought us.”  Indeed, today was a wonderful celebration of thanksgiving for what God has done, along with excitement as we prepare for this week’s crusade.  This church family has offered themselves completely as sacrifices to the calling of God.  I feel so honored to celebrate and serve with them.  At the end of the day, I caught a glimpse of the sunset just above the clothesline.  At least a dozen or so purple shirts hung there, now clean and drying before they’ll be needed at the next worship service.  The simplest, humblest of scenes back-dropped by a glorious, brilliant light, and the Lord whispered the old hymn to me…'Here I raise my Ebenezer, Here by Thy great help I’ve come…'

Sherri

Saturday, July 23rd - Even Me.

After a much needed night of rest in actual beds and a hearty Ugandan breakfast (pass the beef sausage, please), our team hit the ground running.  The children were ready for us, and armed with bouncy balls, bubbles, and nail polish, we had a great morning of play time at the church.  As I blew bubbles the children would swarm around, giggling and reaching to pop them.  I held the bubble wand up to one of the older girls and she blew, hard at first and we all got sprayed with no bubbles.  Oh I wish I could capture their laughter and send it to you!  She tried again and much to the delight of us all, a steady stream of bubbles came rushing out.  Around the circle, the girls began to say to me, “Even me, mum, even me…”  It was their way of asking for a turn, but my heart was pierced with the thought of something deeper.  The wheels in my brain just kept churning, and that two-word phrase echoed in every event of the day.

Before lunch, the mission team rode out to the farm land nearby.  Thanks to some divinely appointed donations, Ebenezer Baptist was able to purchase this land recently and now they grow crops—maize, avocados, gnuts (which are like small peanuts) to feed the children.  The church leaders gave us a tour and asked us to help harvest some of the corn.  While in the fields we prayed for the crops and we prayed for the spiritual harvest that we know God is preparing for the coming week.  Even when walking through a corn field here, white people stand out and attract a lot of attention.  Before long, we had some curious followers, half hidden in the wild lantana, peaking out for a wave and a smile.

Back at the church, lunch time was simply overwhelming.  Instead of 2 lines of children, there were at least 4 or 5.  I felt the heart ache creep up like a lump in my throat with the speculation that there wouldn’t be enough food.  Then midway through lunch service, a rain storm blew in and all the children ran into the church tent to take cover.  LC and I sat down in the middle of a mob and just started talking with them.  We talked about all sorts of things.  They are fascinated with our skin, freckles, and hair not like their own.  I caught more than one child with the back of my hand pressed to their nose, smelling the remnants of my fruit scented hand sanitizer.  We talked about how we are different, but also how we are the same in God’s love for us and our need for him…

After the storm passed, some of us went to the local hospital for a tour.  One of the church leaders, Mike, is a nurse there, and he was our tour guide, and later, our shoulder to cry on.  I don’t think I can really express the intensity of what we saw, but we visited the children’s ward, gynecology, and the neonatal ward.  There are on average 30 babies a day born in this hospital.  So many children are suffering from sickle cell and diseases that are preventable with proper nutrition and vaccinations.  We prayed with mothers and babies, grandmothers, and fathers, and the desperation in their eyes, the weariness, and the worry was more than I could take.  I can never un-see what I saw there.  Those of us that went to the hospital left there broken.

After we returned from the hospital, we had more time to play with the children.  Then we took a walk around the village.  Although the area is not that big, it was a seemingly endless maze of rough brick buildings, muddy streets and children, children and more children.  Along the way Mike told me that approximately 20,000 people live in this area, a substantial percentage of them believed to be orphans.  Then he joked that he felt like he was holding hands with all 20,000 of them on our tour.  Funny, but it did feel that way.  They just couldn’t resist the chance to touch our arms, get a smile or wave or a hug from one of us.  And they were especially drawn to our children—Drew, Jackson, Landon, Carson, and Nathan, who have astounded us all with their willingness to volunteer, their eagerness to build friendships, and their love for the Lord.  The church leaders were so pleasantly surprised by the youngest members of our team and said that they are part of them now, 5 more children of Ebenezer.  Watching them today, I just kept thinking—Exactly!  This is it, this is why God brought us all here.  Indeed, we are all children of Ebenezer because we are all His children, adopted into the family of God by the saving power of Jesus…

Yes, child, even you.  Even you, child on the farm, surrounded by maize, gnuts, and your hungry belly’s only hope.  Even you, tiny baby in the hospital born too soon, into a world with very limited medical care.  Even you, precious orphan of the slum, abandoned and left to suffer in the dirty gutter.  You are loved by a God who formed you in your mother’s womb, by a Savior who died for you, and by the Spirit who longs to walk with you along the dusty road.  Yes, even and especially you. 

Sherri