I’m going to go through this day backwards because that is the way it is in my head right now. The last thing we did before returning to our guest house this evening was go swimming - in a pool, because they say the lakes here have all sorts of fascinating little viruses that are just waiting for a chance to get into your bloodstream and wreak some rather nasty kinds of havoc. So, we stuck with a pool. At a hotel. On top of a hill. Overlooking Lake Victoria. The view itself was priceless. The chance to swim with dear friends in clear blue water under a windy blue sky was even better. Although, I must say, when Candice and I decided it would be a good idea to swim ten laps, we weren’t functioning at our most brilliant level. I do believe I’m going to be a bit sore for the next couple days . . .
But as I stood there on top of that hill, looking across the dazzling cascade of peaks and valleys falling away to the horizon, I was awe-struck. I’m sure, God, that You don’t hold anything personal against Nebraska, for You’ve painted some of the most brilliant sunsets I’ve ever seen there. But when it comes to that live, pulsing color of green - and hills that roll away like ocean waves to where earth meets sky - and flowers that fall like fountains over tree and bush alike - well, Africa has us beat by a long shot. This country captivates me - its animals no less than its plants, its music no less than its animals, and its people more than them all. I shall be sorry to go, but I thank You, God, that You have brought me here now.
Before our swimming excursion, we had gone into downtown Kampala for a delicious lunch at a rather elegant restaurant. A Chinese restaurant actually. Which made me laugh because here we were, in Eastern Africa, of all places, sitting down with chop sticks and soy sauce. And before lunch, we’d toured the present MFL school, which is, just as they told us, much smaller of a space than they need it to be. We toured the facilities and saw classrooms for thirty children the size of my parent’s living room and dorm rooms barely as large as my bedroom with nine bunk-beds crammed in there. And the children consider themselves fortunate to be able to attend here. Most African children do not get to go to school at all. But MFL is working on a new site (see Day 31) which they hope to have completed early next year. Lord, bless their efforts.
Our dear translators were with us all day long and were a constant source of joy to us, as indeed they have been all these weeks here in Uganda. Has it been only three? It seems so much longer than that. I will miss these Africans, my Lord. There is a simplicity to their happiness and honesty that I fear I will desperately miss in America. Our team also is saying goodbye tomorrow. Molly, Miriam, and Kathy must catch their flight early in the morning, and in a few days, Jon and I will be following them. After that, Candice and LeeAnn are staying a bit longer, and then they will go their separate ways too. Back to the “real world,” eh? My home is in You, dear Lord. When all around me is changing - changing yet again - my home is in You. Lead on, gentle Savior.
