The Uganda I know

Yesterday I had a very interesting experience.  I was at the women's program and teaching a Bible study on Romans 8:28-39.  I have been focusing on freedom in Christ and our identity with Him.  Many Christians know Romans 8:28, but few read beyond that point.  So we read together and then had a time for discussion.  Our English teacher Maureen told us about her mother dying of AIDS in 2001 and how that was the experience God used to call her to Himself.  She explained that through that tragedy, she believed and started walking with Christ.  Another story was much more chilling.  A carpenter in Kampala was cutting some boards and accidentally cut off half of his pinky finger.  Some time later he went back for a visit to the village and was ambushed by some "traditionalists".  They carried him to the local witch doctor to be offered as a sacrifice.  But when the witch doctor saw his finger he refused to sacrifice him because of his flaw.  He wanted a perfect sacrifice.  So loosing his finger was used by God to spare his life.  The story was amazing but got me thinking about the things I have read, seen and heard about village life.  I was helping one of the boys in the house, Kataregga, with his homework.  There was a part in the science section about making sure that you never take candy from strangers.  (good advice) but then his textbook went on to say that the reason why is that you might get caught by a witch doctor.  This was his textbook!  I had heard he reason why women pierce one of their babis' ears is so that they will no longer be perfect and unsuitable for sacrifice. But in the back of my mind I thought, "Naaaah."  Well guess what? Yeaaahhhh! All this to say, that is not the Uganda I know. The occult is alive and well in Uganda.  Human sacrifice still exists.  Tribal wars and rivalries still exist. Here in the city I see extreme poverty and extreme wealth.  I have walked through the part of Owino where they sell stuff for witchcraft, but I have not experienced it first hand.  But I need to keep in mind that the women have and the boys on the street have.  Isn't it interesting that the witch  doctors want a perfect sacrifice?  Jesus Christ the perfect One sacrificed once and for all.  Pray that the women and the boys will be able to loose any associations they have that are negative and break the bondage caused by a belief in witch doctors.  Help me remember that even though I may see a Mercedes Benz on the street, there is a dark underbelly that I know little about and they need to see the love of the only truly perfect One as well!  

New Home and a New Perspective

Last week I moved into a room  in an apartment that Abby and David Kakeeto rented close to their house.  It has two bedrooms, a kitchen, a sitting room, and indoor plumbing.  I love having an indoor sink.  The apartment is located over the garage of a wealthy Ugandan. The view is wonderful and I even have a small balcony.  The timing of the move was perfect as well.  I am trying to get settled before I go back to the US in October.  This week we will be buying a computer and setting up a real office.  I am nervous and excited.  I really want to go home.  AND I already have plans for when I get back here as well.  These last few weeks have been pretty stressful for me as they were too busy and I got way behind in my sleep.  I love the quiet here at the apartment but I also miss the constant movement and noise of living with the 16 boys.  I had an interesting thing happen on Saturday.  I took Emma (Emmanuel) with me to Kampala city to run some errands and I took him to lunch.  We were getting phone repaired.  Emma said something to me and he called me Jajja (of course) and the man said, "Jajja?  Is this boy yours?"  Emma looked up at me and waited for my reply.  I said yes and he just burst out in happiness.  The power of being part of God's family together, makes our bond even closer.  I don't really call the boys "my boys."  I stopped feeling like people were "mine" when Jeff was so sick, close to his death. My prayers changed from "Please heal him" to "Please don't let him suffer" to "Father, he is Yours not mine, You love him more than I can imagine, your will be done in his life."  Something inside me changed.  It was peaceful but also bittersweet.  Even my daughters and son are not really mine, they are the children that God blessed me with and gave me the privilege of being their mother.  I remember when I admitted to someone that even today I have a hard time praying to God about healing people physically.  Not that God isn't good, because I know He is.  Not because he isn't all-loving, because He is.  But because he knows the end and I don't.  For me it is acknowledging that God has ALL of the power to heal, and in His sovereignty, sometimes He chooses not to heal.  I can pray with all confidence for God to heal broken hearts and give spiritual healing.  But healing for AIDS, cancer, etc?  God may not answer that prayer the way I want him to. There is peace there but for me it came at a cost. Two of the women in our program are not doing very well.  I pray for their hearts, their minds, their souls, their families and when I say Father your will be done in the life of these women and in their bodies, a lump comes to my throat.  Missionaries are not supposed to feel that way are they?  How does that relate to Emma?  Because I was encouraged by him and seeing the sweet smile on his face and the pride in his eyes when I acknowledged him to a stranger.  Thank you God for Emma, thank you for the women, Rose and Gertrude.  Thank you for making us family.  Thank you for making us yours.  Father, your will be done in all of our lives! Amen!