Today we rode about a half hour to the nearby town of Butende to preach and witness the baptism of 13 people who recently came to Christ. We’d spent two days last week going door to door to in teams to share the Gospel, and many people came to know Jesus! I shared a message to the church they were very grateful to hear, and then we packed back into a tiny van with 20 other people and rode back to Bugiri to share Jesus and pray for healing in the local hospital.
But I’ll be honest. Right now I’m exhausted and somewhat skeptical. Every night we come back after pouring my heart out to these people, I feel completely emotionally and spiritually drained. I hardly have the energy to talk to anyone. I’m skeptical of whether or not we are making a difference, if there is any real life that we’re pouring into these communities. What if these people are just simply saying they’re accepting Jesus but really aren’t? What if God doesn’t heal these people? I met a wife sitting on the floor next to her husband, badly burned over a very large portion of his body. A thin layer of gauze stuck to the skin as pus oozed out all over this back and chest. What must she be feeling? I don’t know much about burns, but I wondered – what chance does he have of surviving? I prayed for him realizing that God may be the only hope for him and his wife. Jesus says in John 15:7-8, “If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given to you. This is to my Father’s glory.” But what if in my Father’s wisdom, He feels it best not to heal someone right away … or at all? I feel like we’re being asked to be magicians in the name of Jesus. But doesn’t God desire to be our lover far more than our Santa Claus?
Last night, Mel pulled out her guitar and began playing and singing. And although I’m still scared of having my voice heard, I slowly was able to sing as well. And in the midst of all the stress and exhaustion, and incredible healing in my heart took place through music. Months ago, I was working on a project for a church in Houston that had to be completed in a month. We were working hard 14 hours a day, six days a week. And I remember some of the most restful times weren’t sleep, weren’t even running. They were the few opportunities I had to listen to a woman playing a piano alone in an auditorium simply out of worship for God. Even though I still had to work, I felt for a short time I was able to escape the deadlines and be healed by God’s incredible rest working in me through her beautiful desire to offer what she had to God.
Perhaps this month I may often come to the end of myself. I might be confused and have a lot of questions. And I still have quite a bit of change that needs to take place in my life. But God is still taking care of my heart through it all.
We’ve had the opportunity to share Jesus with many people in homes like these!
