An Inconvenient Kind of Love...

Timothy Keller once said, "All life-changing love is inconvenient."

At the time, I didn't comprehend the depth of that statement.  Not until God uprooted my life and transplanted me here in Uganda.  Now when I read that quote, I realize that I couldn't agree more!  Loving people with a Christ-like love is tough; and it's messy, and painful, and scary, and...*sigh*...

I read a blog recently that detailed some of the heartaches associated with loving someone well. More specifically, the writer talked about foster care and how it sucked (Sorry, missionaries aren't supposed to use that word, are we?!) to bring a child into your Home only to have them torn from your Heart a few months later because the biological mother suddenly decided she wanted to be a mom. She referenced some of her personal experiences and confessed some of her not-so-friendly opinions towards the biological parents and her belief that she could do a better job of raising this innocent child if given the chance.  But then she shared what God had been teaching her over the years throughout her fostering experience:
1.  Children, whether biological or not, are not ours; they belong to God.
2.  Returning a child to their home may be a loss to us, but it is not a loss to God.  He remains sovereign regardless of the circumstances.
3.  Despite the child's location, God is big enough and He can care for that child with or without us.

As I continued to read the article, the truths in each line clenched my heart. No, I am not a foster mother nor was I ever raised by the foster care system. But this woman's words resonated with me.
I knew this woman...
I was this woman...
The ministry where I serve is a host to many painful stories.  Children are carrying years of pain, neglect, and rejection.  Just yesterday, I stood quietly and watched 'my' kids as they sat in class and prepared for their midterm exams.  Some of their stories stirred in my mind:  A young boy, about eight years old, infected with HIV and suffering from inadequate nutrition at home. A sweet adolescent girl, unwelcome in her family's home, struggling for a place to call 'home.'  A young girl, about 10 years old, unaware of what real love is, seeking acceptance from whomever will show her the slightest bit of attention.  A teenage boy, abandoned by his mother and rejected by his father, desiring that someone--anyone--show him the path to real life.  A shy girl suffering from experiences of inappropriate touch, afraid to let anyone close to her.
I look at these precious babies and naturally think, "Of course they would be better off with me."  "I can be a better mother and role model for them."  "I can do a better job of meeting their physical and emotional needs."  "I can do a better job of loving them!!"
Then, somewhere in the midst of my internal temper tantrum, God gently said to me, "Perhaps so, but don't forget about me.  I am all they need.  I am their Father and you can trust me with their hearts.  Trust me to love and care for them when you and the world come up short.  I promise you, I have good plans for each of them."
It was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.  A soft reminder that no matter how much I love these kids, there will always be Someone who loves them a million times more.

Even so, it isn't easy.  God has called me to love these children as my own and to show them a love that they have never known before.  I have no doubt that once they experience His unconditional love, their lives will inevitably be changed for eternity! :) I am doing my best to be obedient to that call, but there is still this fleshy, human part of me that wants to shout, "God! This isn't fair!"
It's not that I don't want to love these kids, loving them is the easy part. Nearly everything about them is lovable.  The hard part is the emotional toll it takes on my own heart.  Acquiring just a glimpse of the injustice that these kids are forced to face each and every day. Witnessing the effects that this broken and busted world has had on these young lives.  Seeing the tears in my children's eyes.
Every ounce of me wants to be the superhero mom that rescues them from their hurt and pain; to jump in and wipe away all of their tears.  I want to hold them close and reassure them that everything will me okay.

But I can't.

Admitting that is like thrusting a dagger through my heart.  It is a battle that I face every day.  An emotional tug-of-war.  On one side, my head is telling me to just trust God (and that seems like the right thing to do...), but I can't ignore my flesh on the other side screaming, "Do something!!!"  My emotions are constantly being violently jerked in different directions.

Fortunately, God has given me this scripture to cling to:

"And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them."  Romans 8:28

God has not called me to save these children--that is His job.  They belong to Him anyway.  Truly, He can use me as a vessel to share His love for them, but even in my absence, His love will prevail.  And even in the pain, He remains to be God.

So, I am learning to trust Him on another level these days,  And I am thankful that He is being patient with me because as Mr. Keller said, Love IS inconvenient.  But while it may be inconvenient for me, it is no excuse to jump ship and give up.  I must continue the race that God has put before me. Loving my babies through their pain is hard.  Seeing their tears is agonizing. Knowing their stories is heartbreaking...and I am sure that if it breaks my heart, it is breaking God's heart all the more.  Thankfully, His promises are stronger than the pains of this world and His love has already overcome!

A Taxi Ride with Purpose...

My heart did a little happy dance last week on the way home from Bible Study.  I, with five of my kiddos, was crammed into an overloaded taxi.  (And by ‘overloaded’ I mean a 14-passenger van stuffed with 20 people, a toddler, two babies, and six chickens.)  Once we had boarded, my youthful little ones wasted no time with their typical, playful banter—joking, teasing and laughing with each other.  Immediately, I saw heads turning.  There were glances…and then double-takes from the other passengers as they observed this peculiar hand-gesturing communication that was happening. 

(Side note: It is a common misconception that Deaf people and their conversations are quiet.  Though sign language in and of itself is an unspoken language, it is still very animated and expressive.  Hence, sign language is not as silent as one might imagine.  Additionally, people who are profoundly deaf are often unaware of the sounds around them as well as the sounds they are making during a conversation.  To a person unfamiliar with deafness, these noises may sound strange and sometimes alarming.)

Needless to say, my kids were having a blast and as a result, they were making a little bit of noise...okay, maybe more than a little…

After all of the glances and stares, the comments soon began to follow; they hailed from all sides of the taxi.  And I’ll admit, most of what the other passengers were saying, I either didn’t hear clearly or I just didn’t understand.  (I am doing my best to learn Luganda, but I am far from fluent.  And my own hearing loss is an additional barrier sometimes.)

Still, I was able to clearly see that people were fascinated and quite intrigued by my kids and their unique language.  The curious onlookers were very quick to admit to each other that they had no idea what was being said (signed) and that they wished they knew.  (Welcome to MY world, folks.  And welcome to the world of my Deaf children.)

But remember when I said that my heart was doing a happy dance?...

Here’s why:  There was a woman sitting in the back of the taxi with us, smack dab in the middle of our (somewhat noisy) chatter.  She had been looking this way and that for several minutes, perplexed by the little hands that moved busily around her.  I watched as she paused for a moment, then a humble smile came to her face as she boldly announced to the other passengers, “These kids may be deaf, but you see, they sure are happy!”

And there it was—God’s light shining ever so brightly in that dimly-lit taxi.

Here in Uganda, and in communities around the world, people see a deaf child and automatically discount their value and potential.  It is often believed that because a child is unable to hear, they are also unable to read, write, learn, work, etc.   But Friday night was different.    

In the back of that crowded taxi, I trust that God spoke to hearts and affirmed in them what I have known in my own heart for a while:  We are all created for a purpose.  He knows each of us better than we know ourselves.  Scripture says that, “Before I formed you in your mother’s womb, I knew you.  Before you were born, I set you apart...” Jeremiah 1:5.  We are His workmanship, created to do good things (Eph 2:10) and a child’s deafness cannot stop Him from being glorified.  Our God is much bigger than that.  In fact, only He has the ability to turn their pain into praises and their rejection into rejoicing.  And for sure, He and the angels rejoice each time He is able to shine His light through those precious vessels. 

I realize that most people don’t want to admit that God intentionally made a child deaf…(I find it more common that people want to ‘pray away’ their deafness.) But could it be that my children’s deafness is just part of His elaborate plan? An opportunity for Him to receive praise and glory in unsuspecting places?  Is it possible that my children can be other examples of ‘nobodies’ that God has carefully chosen to follow Him and be a reflection of Himself.  We see numerous other examples of such transformations throughout scripture: Moses, Job, Joseph, Esther… People who came from nowhere, without a resume, and without the necessary skills.  But despite that, God uses each of them in profoundly powerful ways. Perhaps my babies are among them?

I believe that thousands of years ago, God saw all of us in that taxi and knew that a group of [cute] Deaf children would be the perfect way to show His love and mercy. Nothing about that taxi ride was an accident—not even my children’s deafness.  Everything was orchestrated by God, for God.

And the part about this story that I think I love most…my kids didn’t even realize the looks, the stares, the comments…they were too busy being full of joy to even recognize what had happened that night.  I truly believe that God has filled their hearts with an undeniable joy which has primed them and prepared them to be used by Him no matter what the circumstance.

Leading praise and worship at Bible study:

I am always amazed at how much I learn from my kiddos.  Friday night was no exception. 

Which leads me to this question: Are we finding joy and contentment in the circumstances of our lives?  Or are our impure hearts getting in the way of what God wants to do through us? 

Dancing In The Rain...

Praise Jesus!  It is raining here in Kampala today!

I have come to realize that it is easy to take the ‘little’ things in life for granted.  Especially in the US, we don’t think twice about our water supply.  When we are thirsty, we twist the handle at the kitchen sink and pow! We have water!  When it is time to shower, we again have an endless supply of clean water with a quick turn of the faucet.  The same is true for washing dishes, doing laundry, cooking, washing our hands before dinner, and a host of other things.

Unfortunately, here in Uganda, it isn’t always that simple.  Today, for example, our rainwater basin was empty.  That meant no water for drinking.  No water for bathing. No water for cooking, cleaning, washing, or anything else.  Luckily, there is a public well--about a mile from school—and our kids were sent with their little yellow buckets to fill them with water and carry them back to school.  That way, we could have water to cook lunch.

Jerrycans that were recently filled with the well water.

Sound inconvenient?

It is.

But as with most trials we face in life, there is a silver lining.  The beauty in this challenge?  These kids and the humble residents of Uganda have a perspective that is (sadly) foreign to so many Americans these days.  These young people know exactly where their water comes from.  They don’t take this gift for granted.  Instead, they genuinely understand that everything comes from God.  Here in Uganda, even something as ‘simple’ as rain results in prayers of praise and thanksgiving.  And that is exactly what happened today.  Our lunch-time prayers were filled with requests for rain.  Our students approached His throne with confidence and requested that He provide us with rain…and before we could finish eating our lunches, rain began falling from the clouds.  My babies danced around the school, smiling and laughing as they darted through the raindrops and shouting, “God has heard us!  He is answering our prayers!”

I couldn’t help but smile at the joy that was overflowing from their hearts.  And in the moment, several scriptures began to flood my mind:

“…a childlike faith…”

“faith as small as a mustard seed…”

“The prayer of a righteous man…”

“Pray continuously.”

But more than that, I was reminded of God’s faithfulness.  We are His children. He hears our cries to Him and, like any good father does, He finds great joy in seeing that our daily needs are met.

God may have been refilling our water tank today, but He was also filling my love tank and reigniting my desire to know Him more.

This is a short video of the rain...which briefly turned to hail! 

You can see it bouncing into the classroom with force! 

Stories With New Endings...

I began this blog post several months back, but hesitated to post it.
After much thought and prayer, I have decided to share—for no other reason except that I know God is going to use such stories to reveal His power and grace. He is the author of life and the author of our lives. He alone is orchestrating a remarkably beautiful redemptive story in each of us.

When people learn that I am a full-time missionary in Africa, the responses are usually about the same.
“Wow! That must be so rewarding.”
“…so much fun.”
“…so exciting.”
“…such a blessing.”
Most people hold a positive perspective as far as what life is like over here.
And that is great. I think many people in my same position would agree that we do our best to shine a positive light on how God is working in each of our ministries. We try to dispel myths and stereotypes while highlighting some of the different and unique aspects of our new culture. Our facebook photos display beautiful, bright-eyed babies, children dancing, and mommas smiling. It is very easy to see why we love our lives here; why we are thankful that God has called us to serve him in such a delightfully mysterious yet elusive place.
Most days, I wake up ready to face the day. With joy and excitement, I anticipate seeing God work in a way that only He can. I am eager to see each of my children, teach them something new, and watch their eyes smile as God gently reveals a little more of Himself to them.
Most nights, I lay in bed and smile. Replaying the events of the day in my mind, I am able to see God’s grace more clearly. His presence in those moments is unquestionable and I drift to sleep with a peaceful, contented heart.
I wish I could say that every day is like that—that every day is perfect and my heart is always quiet, at peace, and intact.
But the truth is, some days just suck.
And I don’t typically use such words…but this past Friday…UUgggghhhh!!
I don’t even know if I have the words to describe the hurt and anger that my heart was (and still is) feeling. When I arrived at school, my babies were all in class. And just like every other day, I peeked into each class, greeted the teachers, and waved ‘Hello’ to my little munchkins. It was nearly break-time so I took a quick walk down the street, bought the kids some mangoes, and returned to school. The morning was off to a good start…until break time.
As the kids began meandering about, I noticed a small crowd gathering outside of Primary 2 (second grade). Being the curious little mamma that I am, I wandered over to see what all the commotion was about.
In the middle of the crowd, stood little Simon*, approximately 8 years old and not much taller than my waist. His eyes were cast down to the ground, avoiding eye contact with anyone. As I approached, the other students saw me coming and immediately their petite arms and tiny fingers got busy telling me what happened.
Simon was beaten by his mother the night before.
My eyes assessed at his little frame, slumped over and clearly overwhelmed with embarrassment, shame, and physical pain. I snagged his attention and asked him if what I was hearing was true. Slowly and gently, he nodded his head and quickly turned his gaze back to the ground.
I didn’t want to believe that what he said was true, but the injuries spoke for themselves. A massive lump on the back of his head. A severely swollen forearm. And dozens of scratches scattered across his back.
I could feel my pulse quicken. How could something like this happen?!
I did my best not to look too alarmed, for fear that it would just scare Simon and the other kids, whose eyes were closely monitoring my every move. (Pretty sure I failed—there is just something about the sign language user inside me than spills out all of my emotions through my face. And my kiddoes, being deaf, are very receptive to that.) Nonetheless, I found the head teacher and asked if she was aware of the situation. It was still early in the day so she had not yet seen Simon, nor was she aware of what had happened the night before. I explained the injuries to her and to my surprise, there was little reaction or emotion to what I was telling her. Desperately, I asked what we as the school could do to ensure that the boy would be safe when he returned back home at the end of the school day.
Her response: ‘Nothing. It is the parents right to discipline their child as they see fit.’
What?!?! Are you kidding me?
I am all about disciplining children—I even got my fair share of it when I was a child. Discipline is healthy. It is even Biblical. God disciplines each of us in a variety of ways. He does it to protect us; to guide us, and to help us become strong men and women of Christ.
But there is a big difference between discipline and abuse. What I had just seen evidence of, was NOT discipline. That was blatant, unrestrained, deliberate abuse. And to make matters worse, I was being told that there was nothing I could do about it.
Surely, when I decided to become a full-time missionary (and by ‘decided’ I mean, I agreed to be obedient and follow God’s call for me) I knew the work would not be easy. I had done the research and I had seen the statistics. I had even peered into the eyes of a young deaf girl and had seen the pain of rejection and neglect. I understood that the young people God had called me to serve were suffering from a host of agonizing experiences that I could never relate to.
At least I thought I understood that.
For the past two years I have been overwhelmingly blessed. Each day, my students greet me with the most beautiful smiles. More often than not, their giggles echo throughout the school like a beautiful song. And on several occasions, I have even seen them laugh so hard, tears poured from their eyes. It is hard to overlook the joy and excitement that they express every day.
But as time goes on, it has become equally as difficult to overlook the heartache and grief that each of them carries. Despite their happy appearance, all of my students have a story. A story of sorrow and condemnation and abandonment.
Slowly, I am learning some of the painful realities my students are carrying on their little shoulders and within their fragile hearts. It is an unsettling process to hear such tragic accounts. And it might sound crazy, but I want to know these little details. I want to know why they are sad and what causes them to push me away. I want to know what makes them cry at night and how to dry their tears. I want to know their fears and the thoughts that run through their head when no one is around. But most of all, I want them to know how much they are loved. The world may be telling them otherwise, but the truth is God loves them sooooo…much!
I know how much I love and cherish each of them. But I also know that God loves them exponentially more than I ever could—which is hard, even for me, to understand. Still, I pray for these precious little souls, that despite all of the pain and heartache that they have had to endure, they are able to see and experience the love that God so desperately wants to pour out onto them. I pray that God guides me and directs me as He teaches me how to minister to each child; that my love for them will be a glimpse of the great love He has for them.
Granted, I do not yet know all of the stories, but I am convinced it is because God knows that my heart could not handle all of that at one time. He is gradually exposing my students’ pasts and showing me the next steps to take to help them heal. Some steps are harder than others, but I trust Him. And I hold tight to His promise that He sees the beginning from the end. He will never leave us or forsake us. He is our Heavenly Father. Therefore, deep down in my heart I know that He truly cares for my babies and is masterfully writing remarkable, redemptive endings to each of these tragic stories.
And while He is doing all of that, He continues to write my story as well…

Its Gonna Be Worth It...

As a born-again Christian I know that I cannot escape the grip of of God's hand. Nor can I be hidden from his sight. He is omniscient, omnipotent, and omniprisent.
Still, there are times when it doesn't quite feel that way.  There are days when full-time ministry is exhausting--physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  There are times when life in a foreign country is lonely, when nothing seems to be going right, and the presence of God seems miles away.  And there are times when it really tough and really ugly and packing up and going home sounds like a good idea...
Then, there are days when all of the tears, the pain, and hours upon hours of prayer is finally worth it.
Today was one of those days.
I was asked to teach P6 R.E. (6th grade Religious Education)  As the substitute teacher, I grabbed a hold of the teacher's guide and skimmed over the curriculum to see what was planned for the day.
The topic: Jesus fed the hungry
It was suggested that the teacher use John 2:1-11 (Jesus turned water to wine) and Matthew 14:13-21 (Jesus feeds 5,000) to teach the subject.
I began with John 2.  The students were somewhat familiar with the story, but reading and understanding the words in the Bible often proves to be difficult for them--it can be tough, even, for a native English-speaking person to understand scripture...even harder if English is your second language...that you can't hear. So, we spent some good time transforming the words on the pages into a tangible picture for them to see and better comprehend.
After interpreting the first story into Ugandan Sign Language, we moved on to the second story.  I first let them read the passage of scripture...determined that they didn't understand...and began to interpret it for them.
We started with the events leading up to the story and discussed the issue of John the Baptist being imprisoned, which later lead to his death.  Slowly, we made our way through the whole story.  And what happened from there...my goodness, my heart is still smiling!  Before I could ask them a single question, their hands were being thrust into the air.  I immediately began getting questions like, "Did John the Baptist go to heaven?" "Why didn't God save John from being killed?" "Did Jesus go to secondary school? or college?" "Did Jesus have brothers and sisters?"
I was in awe of how their young, inquisitive minds had been able to see beyond the words on a page and begin to interact with the people, places, and events withing the story.  John the Baptist was not a story character to them.  He was a real person and they were concerned for him and his eternity!
One question would lead to another, which lead to even more.  I found myself in the middle of such an amazing conversation!  At one point I was answering a question and telling my students that God knows the number of hairs on each of their heads; that God can hear (and see) everyone's prayers...all at the same time!  I could see the bewilderment in their eyes and I smiled as one of my girls sweetly replied, "Wow, God must have  realllllly big eyes!"
Their body language began to change as they became more and more captivated by the conversation.  I repeatedly had to tell them to take turns; that, unlike God, I could not see all of their questions at the same time.  But they were all so curious and eager to know more that questions overlapped and comments were being hurled at me from multiple directions.
They asked about the disciples and I was able to tell them that many of the disciples didn't have an education, but God still used them in a powerful way.  And similarly, they might be deaf, but GOd has made them that way and He has plans to use each of them in a unique way too.
The conversation eventually flowed into the miracle of creation.  We talked about how God created everything, from the smallest baby bird to the largest of elephants.  From the littlest fish in the sea, to the giant sun, moon, and stars.
"But who created God?" one of them asked...Oh, to have the heart of a child.  The innocent, unblemished perspective of God and all His glory.  What an unbelievable blessing it is, that God has called me here for such a time as this. I can't imagine NOT walking this journey with Him.
I will be the first to admit, life over here is not easy--for me, or for the people God has called me to serve.  This road all-too-often becomes messy and uncomfortable and down-right scary.  But I am learning to be thankful despite the circumstances that surround me.  I am learning to trust Him when the road I am walking isn't clearly marked.  And I am learning to wait on Him.  Because at just the right time, He gives me days like this--reassuring me of His presence and reminding me that these kids, their hearts, and their eternities are worth it.  They are worth every tear, every busted toe, every heartbreak, every sleepless night...
They are worth it to me.
And they are worth it to Him.

Becoming A Samuel...

There have been so many thoughts floating around in my head these past few weeks--some are cohesive (and productive); others, not so much.  I know I need to put some tangible words to all these ideas and revelations, but I am pretty confident that I won't be able to do that in just one post.  So, I have taken a few notes and plan to address them at a later time.

Meanwhile, I am continuing to be reminding of the story of David.  Before he was David the King; David, friend of Jonathan; David who defeated Goliath...before any of this happened, he was David, son of Jesse,

A quick review: God had recently rejected Saul as King of Israel and had sent Samuel to anoint a new King--one of the sons of Jesse.  Upon reaching the home of Jesse, Samuel is greeted by seven of his sons.  God reveals to Samuel that none of these young men are the chosen king, which leads Samuel to ask, "Are these all the sons you have?"

And this is where my heart sits so heavy today:
Jesse replies, "There is the youngest, but he is tending sheep." 
This was to be a very important day for Jesse and his family--one of them was about to become the king of Israel...yet David was not even considered for the ceremony.  It is almost as though he was an afterthought--less worthy than his older, stronger, and more capable brothers.  The fact that Jesse left David in the fields and failed to even bring him to the event revealed his heart and diminished expectations of his youngest son.  Little did he know, this left-behind (literally) child would grow up to eventually lead God's chosen people.
Jesse, I am sure, underestimated the power that his words and actions had on his young son.  
For some of us, this story may seem irrelevant.  After all, what is the likelihood that my child is going to become king,,,or president...or cure cancer...or whatever!  But that is exactly my point; we don't know.  And we can't even begin to imagine what our children are capable of, particularly when they walk hand-in-hand with the Creator of the universe!
I am beginning to see the story of David played out in the lives of my students here in Uganda. Similar to David, many of these children are outcasts in their families.  They are often despised and rejected with no expectations to succeed in life.  Their brokenness and physical handicap¹ is simply disgraceful and unwelcomed in their communities.  But like David, these children are rising above the odds and surpassing the limits that have been placed on them.  They are succeeding in school, making friends, raising their own standards, and paving futures for themselves and others that will follow.
It is easy to look at these deaf children and see their disability...but why not look deeper to find their ability?

As parents and as Christians, we need to recognize the power our words have on our children.  We need to be very cautious as to what we are saying to our children and about our children.  Throughout scripture we are told that our words have the power to build others up or tear them down.  It is up to us to decide how our words will be used.
Of course, we don't intentionally criticize our children's appearances or abilities, but what are some of the ways we are unconsciously influencing our children's self-image in our day-to-day lives? Moms, are you constantly standing in from of the mirror, complaining about the few extra pounds you have gained, inadvertently implying to your young daughter that a woman's worth is measured by the size of her waist?  Dads, are you talking smack about the athletes on t.v., throwing out insults based on one man's performance that day? 
This is not to criticize anyone's parenting styles at all, rather to call our attention to the delicate needs of our children.
We need to be the voice of truth in their lives.
We all know the phrase, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me..."  Wrong!  They do.  And we need to stand in the gap and ensure that our children know who they are and Who's they are.  The world will, no doubt, come at them with insults and offenses, tearing apart their character and the idiosyncrasies that make them unique.  Therefore, it is essential that our children grow up knowing that they are made by God, in His perfect image.

So, we have a choice to make: We can either be the Jesse in our children's lives, setting low expectations and standards for our children; or we can be the Samuel in their lives, calling them forward to bigger and better things with Christ at the helm.
While our bodies may not appear to be perfect to the world, He made each of us EXACTLY how He wants us.  And in the end, it is not our physical frame, but our heart, that God is after.

¹While mainstream America and countries around the world view deafness as a handicap, the Deaf community disagrees.  Deaf people have chosen to stand--their inability to hear is not a disability.  Instead, it is a ticket into a beautifully unique culture with its own language and opportunities.
  

A Declaration

I have learned to love quiet times like today.  Outside is cold and dreary, but inside is nice and cozy.  I am wrapped in a fluffy fleece blanket, sipping on creamy hot chocolate--with extra chocolate. :) 
It isn't often that I can just sit here, without an agenda and without being rushed.  All is quiet and it is the perfect opportunity to reflect on all the awesomeness God has been doing in my life lately.

Constantly, I am reminded of the peace that He has placed in my heart.  I am often asked if I am scared or nervous about the road that lies ahead.  I can honestly answer with, "No, not at all."  God has completely protected me from any fear or anxiety.  He has been holding my heart in His hands and not allowed my faith to be shaken.  But don't misunderstand, my heart has definitely been breaking.  In fact, it is hard to recall a time when my heart was this shattered.  It takes enormous strength to hold back tears when I tell people about the deaf kids I have met in Uganda--their desire for love, acceptance, and healing. Their need for hope in Jesus Christ.

At times I feel like I am on an emotional roller coaster.  There are days when I am ready to face this challenge head-on, like a confident superhero sent into battle with a secret-weapon cape.  Other days I see the magnitude of despair and wonder how I am so 'lucky' to be entrusted with such a massive mission.  It isn't that I don't want to, because believe me, there is no place on earth I would rather be than with those babies, telling them stories about an amazing savior named Jesus.  But there are times when I feel completely inadequate. 

I'm just being transparent, y'all. God has given me a glimpse into my future.  There will be mountains to scale, suffering to endure, and uncertainty to persevere through. God has shown me these daunting tasks, but He has also reminded me of His strength and promise to go before me.  (Deut 31:8)  I know that there will be tough days ahead, but I also know that I will experience a joy like I have never known.  Deaf children will begin their walk with Jesus.  Families will be restored.  Faith, hope, and love will radiate the hearts of Busega Community.

Lately, I have been finding myself at a loss for words about where God has me. I have tried to find the right adjectives and emotions to describe what this feels like and I have come to the conclusion that there are no words to adequately explain the feeling we get when we know God it actively working in our lives and in the lives of the ones we love.  It is a calming peace, a thrilling excitement, a longing anticipation, and a relentless trust all wrapped up--and you see--that still is not a satisfactory list.  Regardless of my lack of words, I know that God is in control and is leading every step I take as I continue to discover His will, and His journey for me.  He has placed a new love in my heart and a passion like I have never known.

I want nothing more than to see Christ living through those kids and their families. 
It is going to happen. 
God is going to radically change their hearts and rescue souls.

Please declare this with me.

I've been transformed...

I walked through the doorway of the Babies Home and gazed around the sun-lit room.  I scanned the sea of exuberant children with beautiful, nearly-bald heads and bold, glowing smiles.  I could not wait any longer to see my sweet girl again.  It had been months since my last visit and seeing her was the first thing on my mind.

Moments later our eyes met and Maselina ran to me with a smile plastered across her pretty little face.  Joy flooded my heart as I hugged her and kissed her sweet, chocolate cheek.  My heart was nearly overwhelmed by the love I had for her in that moment.  For years I had been praying for her, that God would raise her above her circumstances and transform her into a strong, grounded believer who experienced and knew His everlasting love for her.

The last time I saw her was fifteen months prior.  She was quiet, shy, and wanted nothing to do with me.  But this time was different.  This time she craved my love and affection and there was nothing that would stop me from trying to meet that need.  My heart longed to show her how much I love her. For hours we played pat-a-cake, made funny faces at my camera, giggled at our pictures, and cuddled on the lawn.  My heart was full.

The way I felt in those few hours, I imagine, is how God feels about us.  He loves when His children run to Him.  It doesn't matter the time or situation.  His arms are outstretched wide whether we are distressed or hopeful, tearful or thankful, in despair or triumph.  He takes us as we are and becomes all that we need.

“The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness." Zeph. 3:17

When I saw Maselina in July of 2012, I saw a timid and distrustful little girl that was struggling to understand my interest in her.  She had built-up walls that I could not penetrate.  I saw pain and despair in her eyes.
I saw myself.
Several years back I had been struggling to understand God's love for me.
I could not comprehend the Creator of the world wanting to know me. 
There I was, face to face with Maselina, so much common ground mending the two of us together.  We were both hurt and afraid.
I prayed regularly for my sweet, little friend.  I prayed that God would permeate her heart and love her back to life.

I returned to see Maselina in October of 2013.  No longer did I see pain and rejection.  God had answered my prayers to reveal a hopeful, joyous spirit within her.  He had rescued Maselina just as He had rescued me.  He loved us and restored our hearts to Himself.  Our hearts, futures, and lives were changed. 
Scripture says that God never changes. "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." Hebrews 13:8. 

I am thankful for that.
And I am thankful that we DO change because of His love for us.

Your Mission Should You Choose To Accept It...

I believe that we have all been created for a purpose. Ultimately, we were made to glorify God.  The avenue in which we accomplish this goal varies for each of us.

Often, what we are doing is comfortable and “fitting” for us. But, how often do we stop to think that perhaps God might just have more for us…if only we follow his lead?  After all, he does promise to faithfully lead and care for us, right?  Paul tells us in Phil 4:19  “And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs from his glorious riches, which have been given to us in Christ.” And we are reminded in Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you.” Says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you hope and a future.”

 

I recently heard this quote: “We must let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

Well, I am letting go…because God is calling me to Uganda.  I got the MI:2 talk with God.  “Your mission, should you choose to accept it,” He said to me, “is to move to Uganda.  Seek out the lost and hurting deaf children and empower them with sign language.  Show them how much I love them and tell them about me.”

Let me back up a few months to the days when God’s story for my life began to unfold before my eyes.  I was on a mission trip with Arise Africa via Journey Church.  It was a Wednesday when our team rolled into the village of Makutu in the Iganga District.  Our team served diligently all day teaching about the miracles of Jesus and the faithful, loving character of God.  We played games with the kids, ran like crazy, cuddled babies, and my heart smiled from the flood of the kids' laughter and joy.  Among all of the fun and games, amazing stories, and chaos of hundreds of kids, one little girl repeatedly caught my eye.  She didn’t giggle and yell like the other kids. She didn’t sing during worship time and the other kids seemed to ignore her.

This sweet girl's name is Mutesa and she is deaf.

My heart broke as I pulled her aside and realized that she had never been taught language.  She had never been enrolled in school.  I peered into her eyes and could see her longing for acceptance, longing to be loved, longing to understand her place in this world.

We walked hand-in-hand until we found a quiet doorstep and sat down.  A crowd of children gathered around as I introduced Mutesa to sign language for the first time.  What a blessing it was to watch the sadness and desperation in her eyes turn to hope and excitement.  My heart leaped when she proudly marched to a pastor, tugged on his shirt, looked up at him and used her newly acquired signs to tell him that he was a boy!  Such a simple concept that we take for granted but proof of a brand new world opening for Mutesa.

When it was time to load the van and leave, I would be lying if I said I was okay.  To be honest, for a moment (or two…or three…) I just wanted to scoop her up in my arms, take her with me, and hold her forever. After all, how could she go one

more day without language? Without genuine love? Without knowing the name of Jesus?!

Then God shook me back to reality—I could not take her with me. So I trust that God is protecting her, leading her, and teaching her about himself in ways that I never could, even with sign language.

Meanwhile, in the days and months to follow God and I spent a lot of time together. I was asking a lot of questions while He was silently preparing my heart.  Then the time came when my questions were answered and God said to go. He has an awesome road ahead of me--nothing that I could have ever dreamed or imagined on my own, but I also could not imagine turning my back to a front row seat to witness countless deaf children learning sign language and experiencing Jesus’ love as they become followers of Him!

This is not Mission: Difficult.  It is Mission: Impossible.  I cannot do this of my own strength.  Jesus says, “With people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26  I trust that God will be with me every step of the way, revealing himself and drawing hearts into His redemptive relationship every moment of every day. 

What a blessing it is to be a child of God and to serve the Lord.