The Future

I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Kampala. (Trust me, it's a rare
treat!) And I'm looking at the future of Africa. Right across from
me is a group of 5 twenty-somethings. They are well-dressed,
educated, modern. Probably university students from wealthy
backgrounds. And they aren't the only ones. All around me are young
professionals of the Kampala business community. They are here for
meetings, for lunch, or just taking a coffee break. It all seems very
much like home; if I didn't know better, if I didn't hear their
Ugandan-English accents, if I didn't know that the rest of Kampala was
right outside, I would think I was in an American Starbucks. All
around me are Uganda's upper class elite. The young and wealthy. The
top 1 % of the country- and really, it's more like ½ of 1%.

When I'm in Arua, I don't see this side of Africa. Everyone,
everywhere, is surrounded by poverty. The people I am closest to are
living hand-to-mouth. So it's easy to forget that there is wealth in
Uganda. There are people here with resources beyond what I have
access to. There are people here who are far better off than I am. I
look at this group of 5 young people in front of me, and I think,
there is hope. I see the couples who are enjoying their lunch
together, and I think, there is hope. I see the groups of friends
from 4 different countries and races laughing together, and I think,
there is hope. Africa is not a lost cause. Africa is not doomed.

But the change in Africa has to come from within Africa. The "Wealthy
West" can't come sweeping in and rescue the continent. We can't dump
planeloads of aid and subsidy and think that everything is fixed.
Because as soon as the aid dries up, the problems will start all over
again, only this time it will be assumed that the West will come to
the rescue again. We can come alongside, we can counsel, we can
share, and we can explain that even in the West, there are problems
that have to be managed and solved. But we have to allow Africa to
save itself. The continent has to stand on its own. As long as it is
dependent on the West, it is doomed to failure.

Africa can survive. Uganda can survive. I am looking at the
future. All it takes is for these 5, and thousands more, to choose
to take their place and save their country.

One Year Ago

One year ago, I made the first of many long road trips north through
Uganda. One year ago, I saw baboons, hippos, and crocodiles in the
wild for the first time. One year ago, I arrived in Arua, the small
African town that has been my home ever since.

I am amazed that I've lived in this place for a year already. That
I've somehow adapted to the oh-so-very-slow pace of life here. That I
haven't gone completely crazy yet. That my time here is running out.

I have nine months left in Arua. And I definitely have things I want
to see accomplished in those nine months. I want Jesca to meet Jesus
and choose to follow Him. I want our school groups to become student-led and continue functioning after we leave. I want to begin reaching out to HIV patients here and share Jesus' love with them. I want these final months to count.

I guess the bottom line is, even though I miss my family terribly and
am ready to go home, I don't want to be so focused on getting home
that I miss out on my last months here. I want to continue being here
for as long as I'm here. Which, surprisingly, is a lot harder than it
sounds.

Please pray for us here in Arua, for good transitions as new people
come in and others of us prepare to leave later this year, that we
will keep our focus and not lose sight of our true goal.

One year down, nine months to go!

Trying Something New

I just found a new feature on Blogspot, and so I'm hoping that this

will work... Maybe I'll actually be able to post photos now!

I know it's not Christmas any more, but check out the MASSIVE tree my
friend Sherry decorated at her house! We all went for carols and 21
flavors of ice cream on Christmas Eve.

Snowflakes

Christmas decorations were a little lacking around our house this year, so I decided to make some snowflakes. When several girlfriends came over for a Christmas party, it turned into a snowflake-making class—who knew! But as I showed friends how to cut and where and we discussed “Snowflake Theory,” I realized that snowflakes carry a lot of spiritual truth.

• You can’t hurry a work of creation. If you cut too fast, or too far, or without thinking, the whole thing will fall apart in your hands.
• The more the Creator cuts away, the more delicate and beautiful the final result will be.
• It’s impossible to tell what the final product will look like until it’s completely finished.
• The completed work of art will never look exactly how you expected it to.
• In order for it to look right, a lot of stuff has to fall away.
• I made a lot of snowflakes in the past few weeks. Never once did two look the same—even when I tried!

I feel like God wants me to be more like a paper snowflake in His hands—willing to be cut apart, trusting my Designer, waiting for Him to unfold me and see what I look like!

Cooking Improv

In an effort to build the Christmas spirit in the land of 90-degree days with a hot wind blowing and no chance of rain, let alone snow, we decided to have a Christmas movie marathon. We watched a different Christmas movie every night, ending with a "Jingle All the Way" and "It's a Wonderful Life" double feature. And what better meal to make it feel like Christmas, even if it doesn't, but chili and beans? I knew we didn't have corn chips, so I had Jesca make cornbread instead-- no biggie. I went to the grocery store to make sure I had everything I needed. A friend who owns a supermarket had given me several cans of stewed tomatoes, so that was taken care of. No canned tomato soup, but I can use tomato paste instead. Ground beef, check. Chili seasoning, done. All I needed was the beans. And there was the problem. I've never cooked beans from scratch, and I definitely didn't want to start now. I've bought canned beans in Arua before, but the day I went, there were none to be found. Anywhere. The only canned beans I could lay my hands on were baked beans. Oh, well, I guess it's better than nothing. And what's chili and beans with no beans??? So baked beans it was. Fortunately for me, the chili turned out great! I'm just glad my mom taught me how to improvise!

Immanuel

Therefore the LORD Himself will give you a sign: the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a Son, and will call Him Immanuel. Isaiah 7:14

This Christmas season, the idea of “Immanuel” keeps coming back to me. I can’t leave it alone. I am struck by the mystery that surrounds this word. I just can’t let it go.

“God with us.” The very idea of it is pretty ridiculous. I mean, isn’t the whole point of being God the idea You’re bigger than al of these puny people, greater, set apart? God can do anything He wants. He created this entire universe just for His good pleasure. He definitely doesn’t need me.

And yet this all-present, all-knowing, all-powerful God chose to limit Himself to human form. He chose to become like me. And the part that I still can’t wrap my head around is the why—because He loves me and wants a relationship with me, and the only way to do that was to pay for my sin, because I can’t.

God with us, because He is for us. He wants good things for me. Around the world, in all the other religions, none of the other “gods” ever came to earth and took on human frailties, just to bring good to people. To test them, yes. To punish them, yes. To simply play mean tricks on them, absolutely. But to do good? Never. Only Jesus. Only this one “God with us” can be called “Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6) He is the ONLY good God.

Only Jesus. “The Word” of God—the very essence of Who He is—“became flesh and lived among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

He still dwells among us. He is still Immanuel—God with us. We must simply invite Him into where we dwell. We can choose to follow Him where He calls us. I can’t understand it. I am awed and humbled that the Mighty God, my Everlasting Father so desires a relationship with me. I can’t wrap my feeble brain around it. But I love Him, and I trust Him, and I am so grateful for my most precious Christmas gift—Immanuel, God with us.

SIncerity

I just had an amazing vacation. Kelli and I went to Tanzania for a week, spending 3 days in Zanzibar and the rest of our time in Dar es Salaam. After a year and a half with no vacation, this one was badly needed.

Many of the locals in Dar and almost everyone in Zanzibar is Muslim. I’m not sure if I really processed all the ramifications of this before I got on the plane. But once you’re on the ground, it’s impossible not to notice. Mosques and masjids were everywhere. Children play on the streets in caps and veils. Women even go to the beach fully covered.

Today as we sat waiting for our flight back to Uganda, there was a large group of men in very traditional dress. White tunics, caps, beards, the whole bit. After a few minutes, they all picked up their prayer mats and went to a corner of the terminal to conduct their midday prayers. We could hear their praying all around us. When prayers were finished, they returned to their seats. One of the younger men took out his Koran to read, chanting again as he did.

It struck me that so many of these precious people, being so kind, generous, and welcoming, are truly sincere in their faith. They are genuinely trying to find God and pursue Him. They are trying to follow. They are sincere.

And they are sincerely wrong. I think that’s the most humbling part of the whole thing. I watch these people, who pray more, study more, try to do right more than I every thought about, and I know that they’re so lost they don’t even realize it. And I’m so grateful to know that my eternity doesn’t depend on the sacrifices I make, how many prayers I say each day, the clothes I wear, or whether or not I make my pilgrimage. My security isn’t based on anything I’ve done… which is good, because I am definitely not good enough. It’s ONLY because of Jesus, and His love for me, His death for me.

How I pray that these sweet ones who are so earnest in their pursuit of God, whether in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Europe, or even America, would see, would understand that they don’t have to do anything but receive. And then be grateful for grace.