One of my tasks while in Uganda has been to spend time with our SGU Children’s village. At first this is exciting; this is what I expected to do right? Then very quickly it seemed daunting. Only some of them remember me from my last foray into Uganda almost four years ago now, they mostly speak the local language so I usually have no idea what’s going on, and all the while still trying to find my place, my role, my responsibility here while in Uganda.
So with the complete and utter joy of someone who is definitely out of her element and desperate for something simple to define her role here I jumped on the task of interviewing our kids for sponsorship updates. The first groups of kids I interviewed took it 29384909 times better than I did. Mainly because I was nervous what do I ask, how do I say it, how will it come off and yet the kids, no matter their age, where content just to sit and talk with me. And they shared. They completely shared of themselves, their stories, hopes and dreams for the future. I found myself surrounded by a group of kids that had lived on the streets of Uganda, been through more than I can even fathom: facing starvation, abuse, disease, and were at one time hopeless and yet I’m listening to them share that they’re thankful. Thankful. [Meanwhile I'm still complaining about AC and a cooking stove]. They're thankful for what God has done and the changes they’ve seen in their own lives. Thankful that they have the opportunity to give back and made a world of difference in the lives of future generations. And they know it! Deep in their souls they know about the differences that can be made when you follow Jesus. They know a God who is mighty and powerful and loving and full of grace and redemption and mercy. The very same God that calls me to be a part of all that He’s doing here. The very same God that gave up His Son for me. I can’t even understand that. I truly honestly can’t understand it. And yet I don’t have to.
This post turned out to be nothing like I planned but I think it comes down to this: my job here is to love, simply because Jesus loves me. That’s my role. And every day it looks completely different and sometimes it’s hard and frustrating and gross but always beautiful. When you‘re doing the simple, yet immensely complicated work of Jesus it is always beautiful. Even when that beauty looks foreign to me or comes disguised as difficulties it is beautiful.