My head jerked back slightly from surprise as I entered Pastor Charles Lubwama’s house. The corners of my mouth quickly raised into a smile as I saw Dauwda standing in the living room slightly winded. He must have run the whole way to beat us back to the house.
It was the next to last day in Mukono Uganda and Jessie, Kato( our translator), and I had been making our way around the neighborhood saying our goodbyes and passing out a gift to those we had made a connection with. We had waited at Dauwda’s house for as long as we could and were a little disappointed to not be giving it to him in person. Apparently, he was just as anxious to get it because he had hurried over as soon he heard he missed us. I couldn’t help but think of the first day we met as I pressed the blue book with gold stamped words into his hands.
We had met him one day while doing street evangelism. He and a friend had taken an interest in us as we were talking to a lady at a food stand. While Jessie and Kato spoke with the woman I began asking Dauwda questions about himself. He quickly answered my questions and brushed them aside. He had inquiries of his own. He tapped the bible in my hands and asked to look at it. I smiled and answered him by flipping my bible open and letting him thumb through the pages. “Read it.”, he said in a half question/half demand. I began to read from the place he indicated with a pointed finger until he interrupted me, “ NO! I am a little African boy, you have to tell me in the vernacular.” I made the mistake of laughing at the term he had chosen. Dauwda didn’t think it was funny. He wanted to hear the words about Jesus and I wasn’t communicating to his liking. I tried several times to explain that I only spoke and read English but he didn’t think that was a good enough excuse. Finally when Kato was free he helped me invite Dauwda over to the house for our afternoon VBSish kids time. At first he looked at me skeptically. “You will read from the Bible, in the vernacular?” He asked with a hint of doubt. I suppressed my giggle and explained that we would have a translator. I had never met a little boy quite like him.
He didn’t come to the yard that day or the next but one day he showed up with a couple of books in his hand. I smiled widely and waved at him though the ocean of children playing tag. Slowly his smile turned to a frown as he surveyed what was going on. My attention was claimed by the children closest who decided to ambush. When I looked back up I had to search for him. Finally I spotted his frowning face across the yard leaning against the fence. I was confused by his demeanor until one of my friends checked with him then came to report with a veiled grin on her face. “He was upset because he said he came to hear the Bible, NOT play games.” She had assured him that we would get to the Bible story after the games. While he still wasn’t happy about it he was at least appeased.
Later, after the games and after the story, I made my way over to talk to him. He informed me rather quickly that I TELLING the story was different than READING the Bible. I could only shake my head at his persistence. I drew attention to the books in his hand to try to redeem myself a little. His face automatically lit up ah he showed me torn and tattered little books with a few memory verses and stories. They were the closest thing to a bible he had and there was no mistaking the love he had for them. The wheels in my head had already been turning about doing a blog to raise money to purchase bibles for the many people who needed them but seeing this cinched it. Dauwda was getting a bible.
The rest of the day went as it normally does and soon enough I was relaying the idea to my Mom back at home. I explained that Dauwda was the first of many people who genuinely wanted a bible but had no way to get one. In our part of Africa bibles ran anywhere from $10-$20 which was out of many peoples reach. I still hadn’t put a blog together by the next time I was able to get online so you can imagine my surprise when I had a message that said I had over $100 in my account to buy bibles.
Turns out my Mom had gotten a step ahead of me and put it in church bulletin at Bethel Assembly of God in Hermatige Missouri. As soon as service was over people came and started to hand her money. I could only laugh again as God totally provided in a way that only he could. I was thrilled to be able to purchase 29 bibles, some to pass out to those we met along the way and others to keep at the church for people to share. Even though we didn’t get to personally pass out all of the bibles I couldn’t be more trilled and humbled by the ones we did pass out.
Me, Dauwda, and Jessie
Pastor Charles with the box of bibles!
What a beautiful heart! I often think of her passion for her new found Savior and it brings a smile to my lips and tears to my eyes. “Where do I get this?! (referring to the bible) How am I to follow this Jesus if I do not know his ways?!”
Kato, our faithful translator and friend, received an English bible to help reach everyone with the Word!
Kara gets to deliver a bible to one of the people she had been witnessing to throughout the month.
There were others that we weren’t able to deliver bibles to personally but Pastor Charles saw to it after we left. I am still overwhelmed by the folks at Bethel, they heard of a need and immediately did what they could to fill it. Actually the donations that came in also purchased 8 bibles in Kenya! I wish your could have seen the impact that such a gift had on all those who received it but take it from one who did, it was seed well sown!
Dauwda and his precious bible. He held it tight to his chest as I asked him if he would read it to the other kids in his neighborhood. His radiant smile only broadened as he swore that he would.
