Matthew 18:21-22 ESV
I did not expect to be taught about forgiveness in the bush. I really didn’t know what to expect but I can tell you that learning about forgiveness was not in sight for me.
It’s January of 2017. The roads are a bright Ugandan red. Children’s eyes seem to pop out of their heads as they see Muzungos from America come into their village. The night sky is full of the brightest stars and the smell of smoke fills your nostrils as the bush burns around you. The sounds of crickets and a far off drum were often signs that night prayers were beginning.
Girls from South Sudan and Ugandan girls gathered in a little concrete reception hut with open space. The laughter of their little ones and cries of sleepiness preceded worship for the night. Soon a familiar voice would begin singing and we’d all join in. Cries of joy and thankfulness soon filled the air. Sweat from dancing and jumping would begin to soak our clothes. Our feet would soon be covered in red dust that rarely ever fully washed off. And it was glorious.
I think the most glorious thing is that in Northern Uganda, the girls had experienced war and unimaginable things at such young ages. And then the girls from South Sudan had experienced much of the same thing. I expected for there to be resentment and hatred for those who had “destroyed” their lives. But the truth is, all I heard about was the one who restored their lives.
When the war was happening in Northern Uganda, Jospeh Kony was the face of it all. He was the one responsible for mobilizing the resistance, the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army). He took child brides. He made children into soldiers. He tore families apart. And he is forgiven in this village, his home. The Acholi people have experienced loss and hurt and yet they have chosen to forgive the man that literally tore their homes apart. In one day, at his command, 400 Acholi people died less that a mile from where I was living for the month. And that is just one instance of tragedy.
I remember 2008. I was in 8th grade and the invisible children’s fund (which is now defunct) did a huge campaign educating the world of Joseph Kony and his crimes against humanity in Uganda. I remember being so infuriated. I wanted him to be captured, killed, and shown absolutely no mercy. Little did I know that 9 years later, I would be moved to tears praying that the Lord would capture Joseph Kony’s heart and show him mercy, love, and grace.
My views on forgiveness prior had contingencies. It was contingent on what the crime/offense was. It was contingent on how many people were affected. It was contingent on the person if they were a Christian or not. The Lord gently showed me that His forgiveness is not like man’s. It isn’t contingent on anything.
As I’ve ran this race over the past 5 months, I’ve enjoyed the evolution of who I am becoming. I’m becoming more and more like Jesus and less like Harmony. And it’s amazing. It hurts sometimes and often defies my logic and throws my theology out the window. It’s shattered boxes I’ve confined Him in and even boxes I’ve contained myself in.
I’ve learned that forgiveness is a choice. It’s not forced or out of obligation because “it’s what good Christians do”. I’ve learned that forgiveness does not mean that you get amnesia. You don’t just forget everything that was done, but you choose to move forward. It’s all a choice. Ugandans have every right to shun visitors due to their history. They have instead chosen to welcome foreigners with open arms, hot tea and donuts, and the sweetest smiles.
Thank you Jesus for sending me to Uganda. I love it.
