We had already talked with several people and were getting ready to head back to Destiny Christian Center for lunch. A glace at my watch told me that we had a little less than 15 minutes to get back to the house if we were going to be on time. As we stopped at yet another house I wondered if anything in Africa sticks to a time schedule. We have been doing door to door evangelism in our little corner of Mukono, Uganda for the past two days and it looks like it is going to be the biggest part of our month. To be honest, it isn't one of my favorites ministries. Even so, I feel like I have come a long way in willingness and boldness since beginning last month in Rwanda.
In the last two days Jessie, Kato (our translator), and I have talked with an interesting mix of Muslims, Catholics, Protestants, and Born Agains (Christians), and those who believe in something…they just aren't sure what. Some people see us on the street and beckon us into their homes, sometimes we start up conversations with shop owners, and others pretend that we don't exist and go about their business. People seem very receptive to at least letting us talk and pray for them. Mostly, I think, because we are Muzngu.(white people). As one local put it we have a “fascination factor.”
At the last house of the day, we paused by a woman who was cooking over charred wood on her front porch. Kato began letting her know why we had come. She seemed very distracted and uninterested in anything he had to say. In my mind I was prepared for a brush off and figured we might actually make it back to the house before 1:00PM. A commotion in the house behind her drew my attention for a moment. Over the blaring radio and banging noises I could hear an older woman yelling something in the local language.
Through the partially closed shutters and open doorway I got a glimpse of a bent-framed, older woman in a black silk dress with colorful flowers. Our eyes turned to our friend for translation. “She says she is a witchdoctor and she doesn't want to hear anything we say about Jesus.” Oh…is that all? Pastor Charles (our contact this month) had warned us in our orientation that we would most likely come across other religions, drunks, and possibly witchdoctors, but still it took my mind a moment to process the information. To my knowledge I'd never met a witchdoctor before. She came and stood in the doorway with her head turned from us, refusing to make eye contact.
My heart welled up inside of me as I silently hoped that she would speak with us. Actually, my immediate desire to was scoop her up in my arms, like I do the neighborhood children, and plant a kiss right on her forehead. Somehow I doubted that this would go over very well so I simply stood and hoped for an opportunity. I'm not sure what changed but moments later she stepped back into the house and retrieved a worn reed mat and spread it out on the front step. I don't know if she intended this as an invitation but Jessie and I took it as one and sat down beside her.
For a little bit she talked back and forth with Kato, a group of women on the next porch step had gathered and would burst into laughter from time to time. When Kato translated for us she had now informed him that she was in fact a Born Again (This was the statement that had made all the women erupt with laughter), and she had finished drinking for the day (meaning she was drunk). I was confused but at that moment I couldn't care less if we were talking to a witchdoctor or a Born Again I just knew I had to share Jesus' love for her. (Later Kato clarified by saying that she was mocking us by saying she was a Born Again) When I asked if I could share something she emphatically, complete with arm motions, told me that she didn't want to hear ANYTHING about why she shouldn't drink. My reply was something like, “ That's great! I don't intend to say anything about that.”
Through the help of our friend I started telling her about the unconditional love of Jesus. And how he chose to come from heaven and suffer to save us, before we ever did one good thing. (Romans 5:8) I shared part of my testimony, where even though I knew that God loved me (in my head) I had a hard time accepting it. God himself chased after me, over a long period of time, saying… I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU!!! Until finally one day I yelled back at him, saying that He couldn't love me because of all the bad things I did or all the good things I didn't do. I wasn't good enough for such a love! And at the end…when all my energy was spent….all God whispered was… I know….but I love you. I told her that love wasn't just for me (John 3:16), and it wasn't something that was earned but a gift that had to be received. That no one is worthy of it but that doesn't stop him from offering it. I told her that he loves her as a daughter (1 John 3:1-2) and wants to heal the hurt in her life. I ended with the fact that God's love for her couldn't be measured, not in height, width, or depth.
While I was speaking I noticed that she would periodically turn her head towards me and look directly into my eyes. By this point the urge to hold her was overwhelming, so much so that I had to hold back tears. I didn't understand why until later in the afternoon as I played with the children that came to the house. She had the same hesitant question in their eyes as they all did. Perhaps she had a few more wrinkles and her eyes are a bit yellowed, but they still contained a mixture of fear and hope as they asked the silent question. “Will you love me?”
After I had finished sharing I asked if there was anything we could pray for, already knowing full well that I had a whole bushel of things I was going to pray over her. ( Sometimes people not speaking English has its advantages.) She said she would like for us to pray blessing over her business. Our translator turned to us with a doubtful expression as he informed us that she sells alcohol (A big time no-no in a lot of the Christian culture in Africa.), and chapati (kind of like a thick tortilla). I paused for a moment and then said, “Ok…. let's pray.” Since I hadn't been sitting directly beside her I maneuvered to a position so I could have my hand on her shoulder. (Actually kinda took her seat so she and Jessie had to scoot down a bit.)
Hot tears slid down my face as words that were not my own passed through my lips. I prayed over her past, present, and future; for her hopes, dreams, and fears. For her hurts and that she would accept the love of Jesus. I prayed blessings on her body and over her house and yes… even over her business. I declared who Jesus was and how he sees her. His beloved daughter who he delights in and desires so much to know his love. At the end she looked up and held my gaze, and finally I got to wrap my arms around her. We left soon after that and with a look at Jessie and I knew we would be back one day.
My great hope is that she will know and accept the great love God has for her. And I know, in God's faithfulness, that he will pursue her until that time. I am once again humbled with God's plan and timing being so much bigger and better than mine. And I look forward to getting to speak with her again.
