MILLION-PLUS SHILLINGS MISSING!! UGANDA STORY

This portion of the story is true. One of the scariest stretches of time in Soroti that I ever went through.  Still working on the story, on this chapter, but sharing it anyhow, before the editing is completed.  Hopefully touching hearts.

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Cary, panicking, picked up her phone about 9:30 Saturday morning in Soroti and and called James.  It was nine hours earlier, shortly after midnight, his time.  When he, just waking up, said "Hello", and she heard his voice, she burst into tears.

Immediately, he was urgently awake.“What’s wrong, Honey?”

“Somehow I have lost about one-and-a-half million shillings.  Maybe more.  I have looked through everything and checked everywhere and the money is gone.  What am I gonna do?”

“Cary, that doesn’t make any sense.  You and Jill are very careful.”

“I know.  She keeps the ‘millions’ in her bag, and I keep the ‘thousands’ in mine.  Some is gone now from both, and that just couldn’t happen.  But it did.”

“Did you both have your purses or backpacks with you all the time?”

“Oh, YES! And we locked them in the office or our room very carefully.  And even if someone could have broken in and done it then, we would have figured it out quickly, because every day we did an accounting to make sure our figures were correct.  With everything that happened, for myself, all I can think is that when I was in the van giving money to the Pastor Josephs for the burial materials and coffin, that some might have fallen out of my purse or someone could have quietly stolen it... that happens so often around here.  But it wouldn’t have been the million; I spent a couple hundred thousand for the cloth, coffin, and the concrete that was placed over the grave.  I had a few hundred thousand shillings left, in case anything else was needed for the funeral.  And Jill never let her purse with the millions out of sight. And we weren't in the same place when this was going on.”

“Who do you have to tell about this?”

“Oh, James, the leaders from the UK and US and Uganda that were putting this ministry in place are the ones that provided the funding, and now I have to tell them.  How can I convince them that I wasn’t just being foolish or pocketing it for myself?  If they fuss about it, you and I have to give them US  equivalent of about $750 to cover this... and we can’t afford it, Honey.  I know that.... “

and she began crying again.

James stayed on the phone quietly and let her calm down.  Then he said,  “Cary, God is bigger... you say that all the time.  Don’t let this break your heart.  Money is money is money; relationships are much more important.  We will trust God to bring this to a close.  I know you have folks over there praying with and for you — and you have piles of folks over here who have you on their hearts.  I will email a few of them before I go back to sleep and will call others in the morning before I head to work.  Keep me posted.  Call me when you can, when you know more.  And, remember Honey, that I am always on your side."

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, James.  My heart is calming already.”

“I love you dearly, dear Cary.”

“You, too, Honey.”

They sweetly said “Good-bye” at the same moment.

Cary's tears disappeared.  Trusting God, trusting James, trusting that truth would come to the surface, she slept.

PHIL. 2:13 --- MY "SALVATION" VERSE

When I think of all the things the Lord dropped into my life after my salvation, when I was heading to 21,  ... significant cleansing [leaving alcoholism and a sinful lifestyle, filth poured out of my heart and brain] ... He opened some doors of serving and praying with/for others, teaching/preaching.  Gradually, over time, the blessings increased over and over again... as did His requirement that I serve and obey Him FIRST.

This photo always stands out to me as a time that I was in the "right place, right time".  In 2003, God had sent me to Soroti, Uganda, to help some people when the Joseph Kony, LRA, had invaded their area.  One of my dear Soroti pastors, Joseph, popped into my office one day and said, "Come!"  No option to do anything but go with him, wherever that would be.

He took me to a church ground that had piles of people on the verandas, just living there since escaping from the rebels.  He took me directly to this "porch".  On the way, he had told me they needed blankets, charcoal, basic foods.  Wanted me to provide for them.  They had been there for more than 2 months and had almost nothing.

This family was not much different than others.  BUT what WAS different is that the mother was dying.  She was a Christian.  Her husband and two of her boys had been killed during the rebel fighting.  Her abdomen was filled with water and tumors.  The hospital had drained her previously, but it came back.

Joseph introduced me, grabbed my camera, and said, "Pray for her."  What could I possibly say?  What DID I say?  Don't know.  I just sat on the porch, held her hand, and prayed the Love of God over her, so far as I know.  

When Joseph and I went shopping afterwards, getting piles of food and
blankets and charcoal, we went back and unloaded his car and rushed out so we wouldn't be grabbed by the others.  

Couldn't do it for everyone.  Wanted to, of course.

Do I know the consequences?  Only one.  She died two months later.  Her children have been on my heart ever since, even though I knew no names.  I DID see the anger in their eyes.  You can, too.  So, our prayer included ... from hearts, not our mouths... that the hatred being planted in them would decrease to love.

As sad as it was to see the sorrow, the anger, the almost certain-sure consequence that her death was coming, and her children left behind, spread to other relatives, most likely... I was truly blessed to be used by the Lord for that short time, holding her hand.   I am looking forward to seeing her in heaven.

Now, when glancing through a variety of verses today, this one jumped in.  The reason?  I'm prepping to leave home on June 30th.  Driving from Omaha to the Northwest. A fun time at Yellowstone with a grandson who is going to be with me on the way out. Then visiting family, friends, and meeting new ones, too.  I originally PLANNED to be there until around July 18th, then hitting the road to come back home... because I desperately miss my husband after a couple weeks.  The Lord has said, over and over again, that I am to stay out there several days longer.  Hasn't told me exactly where I will be.  He has people He wants me to meet, some I can see for the first time in many years since going to high school [graduated 50 years ago], sharing His Word.  So, I won't be home until very near the end of July.

So the verse again, laid on me Friday, April 15, 1966 at 6:30 PM, was exactly that:  God is at work within you, helping you want to obey Him, and then helping you do what He wants.

Not much else counts... forever and ever.

Oh, and a truly fun thing that will happen when I'm out there... my 68th birthday is July 9th.  The day before with family in Seattle, and the birthday riding around the Columbia River with family, hanging out at Multnomah Falls, going to Klickitat, etc., and then having a birthday party at in Clatskanie.  It's been 19 years since I've been out at that exact time.  The only sad part?  My dear husband will be here, not there.

PSALM 3 ... SALVATION

AND, AT THE INTERNATIONAL WORSHIP SERVICE, SO MANY NATIONS REPRESENTED, AND GLORIFYING OUR LORD, 

AND WORSHIPING IN MANY DIFFERENT WAYS.

 WHILE WATCHING THEM, MY HEART WAS FILLED JOY.  

I EXPECT IT FILLED THE LORD'S HEART WITH JOY, TOO.  

OF COURSE!!!

 [EVEN MUCH MORE THAN MINE, DONCHA THINK?]


 

PSALM 139 -- PATH, STOP, REST

HE BLESSES ME OVER AND OVER AGAIN...

TELLS ME WHERE TO GO, WHAT TO DO, WHERE TO REST.

I CAN THOROUGHLY TRUST HIM WHEN I'M "TRIPPING"!

REVELATION 22 ... FREE WATER

CAN HARDLY WAIT!

PSALM 57 -- EXALTED GOD, GLORY!

WHAT I DESIRE ...

SECOND-BY-SECOND,

MOMENT-BY-MOMENT,

INSTANT-BY-INSTANT.

FRED AND EMMANUEL REALITY -- UGANDA STORY

Cary always enjoyed the ride between Kampala and Jinja.  As they were driving past the Mabira forest Cary perked up.  “Sam, did you ever talk about the forest with Fred Mukasa?”

“No.  Usually we just talk business when we are together.”

“Last time we visited, he told me that during the Amin times and the Obote civil war, hundreds and hundreds, or thousands, of bodies were dumped in this forest.  Off and on over the years since then, when driving down this highway, people have seen a woman walking across the road, usually in the middle of the night, and they’ve slammed on brakes, causing accidents, or driven off the road to avoid her – and then she had disappeared. 

 A ghost. 

Fred said he actually saw that not long ago.  He wasn’t the driver, was dozing, the driver hollered and started slamming the brakes and swerving the car, and they nearly rolled.  Fred saw this woman, too.  And he saw her disappear right before his eyes.  I trust Fred; have known him since our first visit here in ‘91.  For him — a very intense Christian, as you know —  to tell that story, lets me know that what people are seeing is the truth... but in a spirit realm that we rarely enter.”

Sam said, “I’ve heard those stories many times, of course.  With all the murders attached to those years, and all the witchcraft, and the rituals done to bring people part way back to life, I can see how it would happen.  Especially here.”

“I followed the news sometimes and the number of accidents – and frequent deaths as a result – is mind blowing.”

“People are praying all over this area of Kampala, Jinja, and other towns and villages seeking God’s forgiveness for these hundreds of crimes that were committed and asking Him to restore and redeem the communities and families that were damaged, even totally destroyed.  We’re gradually seeing positive results.”  He paused.  “And, even though that demonic spirit is seen along this highway, I can only hope that, with the prayer, the day will come when the Holy Spirit cleanses this area and none of that danger will be part of our lives.”

Cary patted Sam’s arm.  “I agree.  I know the Lord is the only answer.  It’s true in so many circumstances in all of our lives.  I can hardly wait to see Uganda restored.”

They stopped chatting after that for another stretch of time.  The light was increasing, as was the traffic.  Suddenly they were crossing the bridge in Jinja by Owens Dam at the beginning of the Nile.  Cary shook her head.  “Did I tell you the story about the guy we met in Jinja during our first time here?  When we were visiting the church in Jinja?”

Sam shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  What was it about?”

“Emmanuel was a godly man, but he had a very bad

experience during the civil war.  Bodies piled up at the base of the dam and the army moved them and usually just buried them in a huge pit -- or sent them down the Nile. The rule was that the folks walking across the bridge to get from the cotton factory on the west side to the Jinja side could not look over the side of the dam. 

One day Emmanuel broke that rule.  He looked.  The soldiers beat him, nearly killed him, and his mind has never been healed.  He worships the Lord and has a true heart for God.  But he has some serious physical and mental problems.”  Cary chuckled.  “I know he was badly damaged and it shouldn’t be funny, but he did do something funny with me.  When he met James and I at his church, and I was the preacher, he offered to give me a monkey.  He didn’t have it with him, but would give it to me and I could take it home in my suitcase.  I told him that it couldn’t work that way, because I couldn’t make it through customs, and also told him that if he wanted to give me a carved monkey, that would be OK, but a real one wouldn’t be.  He finally seemed to understand. 

Anyhow, I didn’t come home with either a real or a carved monkey.  But I have Emmanuel’s name in my Bible.  Proverbs 22:3.”  Cary turned around and dug through her back pack for her Bible.  “Here’s the verse.  ‘A prudent man sees the evil and hides himself, but the simple pass on and are punished (with suffering).’  After I reached home and was reading the Word, that jumped out at me about Emmanuel and his life.”

Sam just shook his head, a very serious look on his face.  “So many incidents took place like that during the wars and fights.  We all lost so many family and friends.  And most of the time we never knew what happened.  They just disappeared.  It’s a miracle that Emmanuel lived.  So many didn’t.”