Nathan and I are in Uganda. Right now I can hear the birds singing, chickens clucking, cows moo-ing, horns honking and the call to prayer at the local mosque. There is a cool breeze blowing in after this morning’s rain. My skin has a thin layer of red dust covering it from these gorgeous red dirt roads. We are home. Next to me is my prayer journal. As I scroll through the pages I see a woman who’s heart was in tension of surrender and begging. In the weeks leading up to Ezra’s brain surgery I wrote over and over, “Lord, I surrender the possible future pain of not moving back to Uganda.” I spelled out all the possible outcomes and what if’s and wrote, “Even though____ may happen, even though ____ may happen, I trust you, Lord.” One month before surgery I sketched out the map of Africa and wrote a promise God gave me about our return.
These next 7 days in Uganda are a celebration of God’s faithfulness. As we prepare our home for our January family arrival, we will celebrate. As we meet with our Dignity Project seamstress, we will celebrate. As we laugh and chat with our boda driver, we will celebrate. As we pack up 70 discipleship kits to be distributed in Congo, we will celebrate. As we buy mattresses for our children, we will celebrate. As we pick out the perfect shade of turquoise for Maddix’s room, we will celebrate. As we eat meals with our dear friends, we will celebrate. As we worship Sunday with our home church, we will celebrate.
Today, I echo the words I wrote on Ezra’s surgery day; “For who is God, but the Lord!”