Africa: Part 2

I wrote this back a couple months ago to let you all know that we are alive and well. Well, now, at last, I’m posting this to let you know just how alive and well we really are. Let me begin by briefly telling you what happened the last week we spent in Uganda…

After numerous appointments with the Ugandan passport office, we finally got our passports. That was a joyous day, knowing that all we had to go through next was the U.S. Embassy. However, we were running out of time. It was just over a week until we were scheduled to leave and stress levels were high as we tried to deal with crying babies, restless nights, grumpy officials, and above all, a terrible longing to be home. After meeting with the Embassy a few days later, another load of stress was added as we were told that it would be at least two weeks until we were issued our visa. It was Thursday and we were leaving the next Thursday night. Over and over we prayed that the Lord would work out the details and speed the process along so that we could come home. Day after day was spent in restless anticipation as we wondered whether or not we would be able to get Caleb’s visa on time. Every other night it seemed like one of us, exhausted and worn out beyond our own strength, would burst into tears which would set the other off in a second. But in His mercy, the Lord sent relief.

The previous Sunday we had been unable to find the church at which we hoped to worship and so we were forced to hold our own worship service. The following Sunday it seemed like the same thing would happen, but right when we were about to give up, an elder from the church showed up and drove us the fifteen minutes to the church building. To many people, Sundays are social events: chances to see friends, eat food, and overall have a good time. They are missing out, though. Unless one is in a situation where they are deprived of Christian fellowship when they desperately need it, they can hardly understand the joy it was for us. We hopped out of the car to be greeted by a joyous chorus of voices. Soon we were in the midst of a group of African Christians, with a scattering of white skin here and there. The seven person choir swayed rhythmically to the music and passionately sang praise to our Maker. After the singing was over, the pastor gave a sermon that can only be described as doctrinally sound coupled with African enthusiasm. Though we missed worshipping with our church body at home, how much we enjoyed the encouragement of that morning! The Lord is truly a refreshing stream and He revived our spirits through the ministering of His people. Looking back on that day, I think of how blessed I am to have experienced the worship of another people group. Here in America, we often forget that the reason we go to church is to worship an all-powerful, all-mighty, all-seeing God. Many don’t go to contribute to the meeting of His people. Often, we go to worship the Lord in the company and fellowship of others who have come to do the same but how little we follow the commands of Scripture which say, “As each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God,” (1 Peter 4:10-11) and also tell us that “God is not unjust to forget your work and labor of love which you have shown toward His name, in that you have ministered to the saints, and do minister. And we desire that each one of you show the same diligence to the full assurance of hope until the end, that you do not become sluggish, but imitate those who through faith and patience inherit the promises” (Heb 6:10-12). We so often want our own needs to be met that we forget to minister to the needs of others. Yet we truly had our needs ministered to that day. We returned to the hotel with renewed hope and trust in the Lord’s provision.

The next day, that hope was dampened somewhat when we returned to the Embassy to check the status of the visa. It was still predicted to be done in a week and a half with the possibility that it would be done early enough to arrive the day after we were scheduled to leave. Our biggest worry was that we would have to reschedule all of our flights: a task that would cost well over a thousand dollars. For the next four days, we were on the edge of our seats, hoping and praying that we would get the visas before Thursday. On Wednesday, we were told to come back the next day to check and see if they were done. So Thursday morning, we got all packed-up in anticipation that we would be leaving for our flight at 9:00 p.m.. At 12:00 noon, my mom left for the Embassy while I stayed behind to watch Caleb and pray. And pray I did. 1:00 came and passed, followed by 2:00. 3:00 passed and still nothing. At last, at 5:30 p.m., I heard my mom talking with another mom who was also in Uganda adopting. The moment I heard that voice I was excited, but told myself to stay calm. I could tell that my mom was cheerful, but this could be attributed to a blessing of peace from God. Yet the moment I saw her face, I could tell we’d be going home. For fifteen minutes we did nothing but smile, dance, and shout for joy. Even Caleb caught on to the excitement and began frantically bending up and down, laughing hysterically with eyes half-closed. When 9:00 p.m. rolled around, we began our journey home. Several events occurred during that trip home, but I will leave that to a third and final post as this is already quite lengthy. However, for now, suffice it to say that we made it home safely and are now in the midst of training this young bundle of black-skinned energy in the path of the Lord. May the peace of God be upon you and may He reveal His bountiful mercies to you, even as He has so richly opened our eyes.

Until next time,

~Corey (for the seven of us)