Day 4 Trip 2

This is going to be so hard to write. As I looked out at the 2000 faces here. Most in utter poverty.  I am awash with so many emotions. Mostly just astounded by His great love for all His people. That he loves every one of these. I will never know most of these kids. I will never know their Mothers, Their Dads, Their Teachers. Their friends. But I do know their God. I am so totally broken and weary I cannot believe. I  is everything I can do to keep it together.

I am at Royal Hope Academy. A part of Rebecca Sorensen’s, My Fathers House International. I was picked up finally, by Michael this morning, We drove over unbelievably bad and dangerous road to the Boys house. Rebecca said it was up to me if I even came because there were holding a “speech day” I did not know what that was but I thought I may be another pair of hands to help. I did not know what I could do but I would do my best. I dropped off a bag of stuff, Said hello to Rebecca and we went to the school. The one I had helped build. I was amazing. Finished, painted blue. I was over whelmed at the beauty of is. The simplicity I had no idea of what was to come. I walked into the room that I had built. On the desks were the drums for the program, Really in the room I built, drums? Sometimes God just hits you over the head.  Michael put me to work with Martin and Chris, both boys who live at the orphanage Older kids. We set up the system. I described why it was best to do it that way. Martin runs the sound at the church he boys attend and was the one assigned to hook everything up. I know I was able to help. Next Chris had me build a Christmas tree. I told him only God can make a tree but I’d try. It was fun.  Then came the lights and the ability every road guys gets with untangling cables came into play again. Hooking up the generator, bare wire into 240 volts held with a stick. Oh Africa…

Then the program started. Kids from the school, 400 of them, with the siblings, parents, grandparents. Everyone wanted education. So many people. I looked at the room that I had built the walls. I remember taking pictures of Halie as she was rolled around in a wheel barrel. I remember Jarrod and Jason hamming on the walls Amanda wondering if she was making any difference digging a hole in the middle of the bare floor. I wish she could see the concert floor now. Where so many bare feet and mist matched sandals come every day for a education just as they do all over the world.  I remembered Joseph the builder, the carpenter, when I had scrapped my arm on a board telling me I had to go to the clinic.

“It is bleeding” he said.

“It is only a scrap” I replied.

“People in Uganda die from a scrap.” He shot back so seriously.

I thought as I sat behind the board, my blood is in this building. My DNA was on a board or a nail somewhere here. Then I remembered His blood was poured out for the world. The connection I had with the place was just a fraction of His to this world. There are 7 billion people on the planet, 28 on our team. 7 of which worked on this building. And here I was. One. Me. Watching 400 children graduate a year after I had been there, working sound, teaching audio. Completely overwhelmed but the fact all I did was say yes. Yes I would go. Yes I would face my fear. Yes I would pay a price. Yes I would sacrifice, Yes I would share the only gift I had to give. Knowing now, finally, I had a place, a purpose, A reason. Value. They all thanked me so much for coming, So much for caring. I was so speechless.

Does every Missionary have these moments with God? Why didn’t any one ever tell me just how wonderful it is. How humbling, how astounding.

Now I know it is nothing compared to what Michael and Rebecca and the teachers, cooks, facility do every day. Oh Lord, and these beautiful, beautiful children. Please bless their futures. I can never thank Him enough for letting me witness this day. Can I describe the amazing food? Cooked special for this day. The friendships I have made. Chris, Martin, Isaac, Nelson, Oh Phobe Sozi was the special guest. I woman I met with her husband Peter last year in Rakai. I was able to show her the pictures of Eddie and send a message to him and her daughter Pearl who was a singer and dreamed of recording some day for the Lord. I wonder if I am going to have any part of that.  Stay tuned.