KABUJOGERA, UGANDA -- FINAL STORY

After the delight of dedicating and naming Hannah,

we had a few more hours at the church on our plate.
 
So, on our first "plate", we ate breakfast at P. Robert’s house. While there, P. Israel said one of the conference pastors had asked them a question. This man rents his home -- I assumed it was similar to a mud hut, which is almost all I was seeing in the area.  He said he had discovered a skull which would indicate that the owner had dedicated the house to an idol.  His questions were: can this affect him, and, what should he do about it?  I presented some options and believe, overall, it was good advice, but again I was struck at the matter-of-fact way these men and women approached this whole topic and how eager they were to receive anything that could help them.

We went into the church for the Tuesday teaching, which was done by Tim.  He actually was just giving a quick introduction to spiritual warfare, because we were leaving in early afternoon.  

After Tim spoke, the Pastor Robert asked me to give a word of farewell, which I did – nothing elaborate.  However, then he  said there had been a prayer request sent from another of their churches, because the family knew we were there and they wanted us to pray for them.  Their letter said that they had been married for 15 years and they had an 11 year old girl.  They wanted another child and had been seeking God for a long time and they wanted us to pray for them.  And I was asked to pray.  I felt my faith drop to my feet -- praying about barrenness was something I'd rarely done, and certainly not publicly.  But, I held that letter in my hands and prayed the best I knew how.  Everyone seemed satisfied, but my INSIDE prayer had been “LORD, PLEASE LET THESE PEOPLE HAVE A BABY!  DON’T LET THEM DOWN.” [I've never known the consequences.]

After all this, P. Robert said the people were going to give a love offering.  He said it is part of their culture to show appreciation and that we must receive it. 

Well, the people started coming forward with their gifts: avocados, beans, HUGE cabbages, MORE avocados, a couple of mats, pumpkins, coins, and more avocados.  It was obvious the people were giving their best.  I was so overwhelmed I could hardly breathe.  Then P. Robert asked me to pray the blessing over the offering.  I was so shaken it took me a bit of time to get control of my emotions enough to pray.  

When we were finally ready to leave, Robert came to me with an envelope containing my personal share of the offering, 2,700 shillings or about $1.30 -- all the coins mixed with the other gifts.  I immediately understood how King David must have felt when his men brought him the water from Bethlehem and, instead of drinking it, he poured it out.  I didn’t know then what I would do with this money, but it was too holy to spend in a common way.  I put it in my Bible and would keep it there until a God-door would open. 

[Donated it at my friend Pastor Joseph's Baptist church in Soroti 

on my last Sunday up there, January 18. Two months later, 350 miles away. What a blessing that, not knowing it would occur, the Kabujogera church would  bless the ones suffering from the rebels.  So happy I truly kept those shillings in my Bible, waiting and waiting for the time-share.]  

Then we headed home with our bags, our 9 warm bodies,  piles of gifts in the back and under our feet -- and a chicken.

...AND FACING REALITY

It was a very tight and long four hours, but I was floating on my inside.

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I had never felt so honored, appreciated, respected, received and humbled in my life -- and not often since then.  They had asked me to come and teach again, and I truly will in a heartbeat if God ever makes the door open on our side and would love to take Dave with me to meet Pastors Robert and Israel.  Dave would be a blessing, of course. [And Tim and Jill are still dear friends, dear family. We love them.]

Sometimes I felt that I was living in a travelogue.  I've often pinched myself, while traveling in Uganda during those several trips over and around there, to check if it was really real that I was doing what I loved to do and spending time with people I loved to be with.  The pinching pain always felt good.

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Thank you, Lord, for sending me there, and, now,

 after all these years, allowing me 

to share with family and friends, 

both locally and abroad.

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