I confess I have put off writing this blog for quite a while
now (obviously, since it’s been two months already since I was in Uganda). Honestly I haven’t really known how to
describe the last month I spent in Africa. But I think I might be ready now. On that note, I apologize if my thoughts are jumbled,
because that’s how they are in my mind.
I have blogged a little bit before about expectations, but I
am still walking through the
process of letting them go. Back at training camp (nearly a year
ago…crazy!), we were told to eliminate any and all expectations we might have
for the Race before we left American soil. Unfortunately, I didn’t quite take that advice seriously
enough. All throughout this year,
my expectations have been a huge stumbling block for me, and Uganda (really,
Africa in general) was probably the worst of it. I had envisioned holding orphans and babies afflicted with
HIV, and specifically in Uganda I had hoped to work with people who had were
still picking up the pieces of their lives after the war that Joseph Kony’s
army viciously thrust upon the people there. I had watched one too many Invisible Children videos, I
guess. Well, as it turned out, we
did not do any of those things.
Instead we did door-to-door evangelism until we were nearly blue in the
face. I’m not going to lie; this
was probably my least favorite form of ministry. But, God managed to teach me some valuable lessons
throughout the month that I probably wouldn’t have learned otherwise.
He showed me specific ways that I can be praying for the
African church in general. For
instance, while we were in Uganda we worked with the Anglican church and
noticed that there seemed to be a huge preoccupation with religion and
tradition: two 
things that I believe God isn’t necessarily the biggest fan
of. It seemed like a lot of people
cared more about praying specific prayers, than about actually having a
relationship with Christ. Also,
there was much emphasis on getting people saved, but very little importance was
placed on the subsequent process of discipleship. This was my biggest frustration with door-to-door
evangelism. We would try to
squeeze in as many houses within a day as we possibly could, but once people
said the sinner’s prayer, they were ultimately left to fend for
themselves. I tried to put myself
in their shoes; how strange would it be to have a group of foreigners come to
my door, tell me about a God I knew nothing of, and then turn and leave. What would I do next? Honestly, I would probably forget
everything they said and go on with my life as I had previously led it. That thought broke my heart over and
over as we left each home, and ultimately all I could do for those people was
to pray that the Holy Spirit would speak to their hearts.
Now that we are drawing near to the end of the Race, I have
seen quite clearly that God called me to this trip for an entirely different
reason than I originally thought.
When I left back in January, I was simply a
naive girl who just wanted to go out and save the world. What ended up happening instead was
that God saved me. I mean, obviously I was already saved,
but God changed my heart this year.
God worked on me, more than I worked on others, if that makes sense. Each month that I have not gotten to
hold orphans or work with prostitutes or doing any of the other intense
ministries I envisioned myself doing this year, has solidified this fact in my
heart.
Well, this blog ended up being about a lot more than just my
experience in Uganda, but thank you for helping me process through some stuff
by reading my random words.
****Sidenote: I still
need about $900 to finish the Race.
Can you help? If so, click
“Support Me” on the left side of this page! Thanks!! J*****
