Firm in the Faith

This morning in church we sang the classic hymn "Nothing but the Blood of Jesus."

I haven't had much emotional energy to grieve leaving Uganda still.  But this morning my heart hurt with homesickness.  There is nothing like the voices of 300 plus children in Kikamba belting out the words to this great hymn.  They didn't always know all the words to the first half of the lines, but they would loudly echo "nothing but the blood of Jesus!" with a bold confidence that Americans...as we say in the south: bless their hearts...just can't do.  Oh, how I miss those little ones and their Sunday morning singing!

My pain was soothed slightly by the truth of the last verse:

Now by this, I'll overcome, nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Now by this, I'll reach my home, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

That's just it, isn't it?  How does one overcome such homesickness when you're living in a place that is supposed to be home, but it's not, and you're missing a country that was home despite the fact that it wasn't your own home culture?  Only through resting in all the promises of what Christ has given us through his blood poured out on the cross.

How do you walk through unspeakable pain?  Only through the promises of Christ.
How do you find feet to walk again in a new place and a new life?  Only through the promises of Christ.
How do you survive hurt and betrayal? Only through the promises of Christ.

We've been reading Isaiah at the dinner table.  The great warning of chapter 7 verse 9 pierced my heart as we read, "If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all."

There is so much that is shifting sand these days.  My life is not settled.  I have no idea what this next year will look like.  I don't know if God will choose to bring happier days or more trials yet.  Anxiety tries so hard to be a constant companion of mine. 

Life has fallen apart to such an extent that I have been forced to learn that there is only one sure thing: Jesus died for me.  It's a small, four-word statement, with a larger-than-life reality.

 This one thing that remains makes me God's precious, beloved child and so it opens the door to all of God's promises for his children. Promises like in Psalm 71 where the psalmist tells me that God will revive me again, he will bring me up again and he will comfort me again.  Or Psalm 27, where the Psalmist says that we will look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.

People have told me that I've been so strong in this trial. But I so much want everyone to know that it's not me that's been strong.  I feel the very opposite of that. I feel crushed, hurt and am often a hot mess of tears.  Any strength that might be seen is simply the strength of God that has kept my faith firm.  It is God who has made me know and remain sure that Christ died for me.  And through that, he has opened so many doors of hope: a hope that the sun will shine again one day, a hope that God will show me his goodness, a hope that God will use this pain for my good,

a hope that will overcome, a hope that will lead me home... not to Milledgeville or Uganda, but one day to my real home, where there will be no more tears and heartache.

Hockey Tournament

What happens when you plop a Canadian into Uganda?  A hockey tournament, of course!  Today, Uganda celebrated Independence Day.  Schools and many businesses are given a holiday.  So Eric organized for the youth to play hockey at the church.  Some of the youth made lunch and they had a great day! (Photo Credit: Eric Tuininga)

And the Heaviness Lifts...

Every Friday I lead a Bible study at church for the ladies/girls of our church.  It is something I love to do.  Yesterday we discussed Philippians 4:6-7, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

It is not easy to be a woman living in Kikamba (the slum where our church is located).  Violence, divorce, hunger, sickness, drunkenness sweep through, threatening every corner.  Women are often faced with a choice of selling their bodies so they can feed their family or standing alone and watching their children try to fall asleep hungry.  Many of the women are illiterate.  Many face violence in the home.  Many watch fevers rage in their children and there is very little they can do about it.  Just yesterday, when it was time to take prayer requests, we prayed for a family who almost had their 3 year old kidnapped out of their home at 2am, a family where thieves came in and used a panga to injure their cow (a financial investment and source of livelihood) to the point that the cow died, for a grandmother who is grieving because her grandsons were arrested for raping someone, two different wives who were attacked by their husbands and nearly killed, another mother whose son was severely burned and he needs treatment, two mothers who have children in prison, two mothers who have other children that refuse to obediently stay at home and many who struggle with chronic sickness and troubles.  Most of the wayward children mentioned above do not have fathers in their lives.  One of the women who is suffering from violence in the home has a family that won't help her at all because she is the only Christian and her family is Muslim.  It's not easy to be a woman in Kikamba.

When the women arrived yesterday, they looked heavy with care.  They looked tired to me.  I actually wondered how Bible study would even go.  Are they too tired to listen today?  How will God's word speak to them today?  Every word that comes out of my mouth must be translated.  The frustration of the tower of Babel continues again today in this little corner of the world.

We started to talk about God's word.  What can we be thankful for in the midst of all our anxieties?  Then something happened that rarely happens in our Bible study...almost every lady wanted a chance to speak about something she was thankful for.  Hand after hand raised up asking for a turn, mouth after mouth speaking words of praise.  There it is: the Holy Spirit on the move, producing thankfulness instead of anxiety.  Peace instead of worry.  Peace that is deep and beyond understanding.  Peace you wouldn't expect to find in a group of women from Kikamba.  Peace that is found where ever Christ is found.  These women have troubles almost beyond what I can even begin to wrap my mind around.  But they also have Christ.

Their faces changed in that moment.  I literally saw the softening, the renewing of strength, the flood of joy.  The heaviness lifted and the Spirit rushed in.

"God gave me food this week."

"My neighbors stopped fighting me"

"God healed me so that I could get out of the hospital"

"I have school fees for next term."

"God brought missionaries to Uganda"

"We have a church we can go to that teaches us about God."

"Christ died on the cross for me."

We all clapped and laughed together afterward.  What a friend we have in Jesus!  All our sins and griefs to bear.  What a privilege to carry, everything to God in prayer.