I’m currently living in Buikwe, Uganda. Every day, we trek 30 minutes to a nearby school to teach. We’ve loved connecting with this group of kids and enjoyed the time we’ve been able to spend with them playing before class, learning English, sharing cake, and singing songs. Thursday was our last day at this particular school before moving on to another school this week.
When we arrived, I noticed a little boy sitting on the back bench. He had a bad burn on his arm. It was an open wound with skin falling off. Another kid grabbed his arm and the wound began to bleed. Our squad leader, Cabe, and I took the boy outside and used our first aid kit to clean the wound. Through a translator, the boy told us that it was a burn from boiling water, but did not say if it was an accident or on purpose. As Cabe cleaned the wound, I tried to comfort the boy. He did not cry or show any sign of pain. We took him back into the classroom and I let him sit beside me and hold my stuffed animal fox I brought on the trip with me.
Then, Pastor Charles came and apologized for not being in the classroom at the beginning of class. He said he was attending to a little boy who had been stoned in the head that morning. My heart couldn’t process that. Moments later, the boy walked in the classroom and sat down. It was a little boy (maybe 6 years old) named Daniel. He was a kid the team really connected with. We even nicknamed him “Peanut.”
I began to cry as I sat in the back of the classroom. My heart was broken. I tried to pull myself together and as my eyes scanned the classroom, I realized children were still looking at me and expecting an “ear-to-ear” smile like they’d seen all week. How do I portray joy to these kids who need to see the joy I have in Christ when all I feel is brokenness.
I finished out the rest of the lesson. We taught the kids John 3:16 and acted out Bible stories for them. Then, before saying goodbye, we prayed over the teachers and took a picture with all of the kids. As we began our walk home, I began to process what I was feeling. The conversation went something like this:
Me: I want to go home.
God: Why?
Me: Because I can’t keep Peanut from getting beat up. I can’t protect these children. I can’t fix it.
God: You’re not here to fix it. You’re here so I can fix you.
I am not on the World Race to “fix it.” I am on the World Race to be God’s hands and feet, to show His love and joy to His children, and to be changed and molded to look more like Christ in the process. In this process, I am experiencing joy and sorrow more deeply than ever before. It’s exhausting, but I’m learning to rely on Christ alone to sustain me.
I am in month one of this eleven-month journey. In order to continue the mission the Lord has sent me on, I need your help. I still have money to raise to stay on the field. Would you consider partnering with me in bringing the Kingdom come? Any amount helps! Click the “support me” link to donate.
