The Journey

As I have time, I'll post all the details, but here is a post I sent to our church family (with photos now added) while in Uganda.  Thanks to all those who prayed so faithfully and gave so generously to bring Caleb home!
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I’ve hesitated to write an update, not because there is nothing to tell, but because it is difficult to put into words the emotions and events of the last several days. But now, in the quiet, early morning hours, as I sit, for a change, with Caleb still asleep, I have decided to write. It is tempting to paint a rosy picture, for there are happy moments: laughs with Corey, the exciting find of a refrigerator next door where we can put our drinks and have them cold; music-making with Caleb as he beats on the trash can or sings us a tune; walks to the one little store nearby to purchase peanut butter and jelly for lunches; magnificent storms that clear away the thick black smog that pours from the vehicles and the brown smoke that snakes from the endless piles of trash that burn along the roadways; the discovery of rainbow-colored birds, large, blue lizards, and brightly decorated moths; late-night games of Settlers of Catan with Corey. We treasure these simple pleasures. But we’re homesick. Bored. We miss the rest of our family. We’re tired…exhausted, really. We have no guarantee that we’ll return home on our ticketed flight. And yet we know, here in our little Ugandan compound, just like in California, God is on His throne, orchestrating the events of our days, tenderly caring for us, His beloved children.

We talk of adoption as glorious. A child becomes part of a covenant family. A family gains another blessing. A child is rescued from orphanhood. These are accurate statements. Adoption is glorious. But if we are to understand God’s adoptive love for us, we must tell the whole story. God’s love, while glorious, was also gory. Our adoption was purchased in sweat, blood, and tears. While I have not sacrificed my heavenly prerogative, nor given my life for Caleb, I now understand, in small part, the cost of my adoption into God’s family. Caleb did not come running to me, asking me to be his parent . Corey and I have traveled a distance to redeem him from poverty and fatherlessness. We make seemingly endless drives into the city and wait in ninety degree heat with high humidity and an unhappy child to see officials who often treat us like stupid Mzungus (white people). Dragged from all he has ever known, Caleb’s world has been turned upside down. He’s been given new garments and a new name. Yet he has clawed, hit, bitten and scratched us. He screams to be put down and then screams to be picked up. He doesn’t really know what he wants or needs. He operates with the mentality of a child raised in an orphanage. How like me.

For me, Christ was mocked, spit upon, beaten, bruised, and crucified. And yet, I did not naturally come running to Him. God dragged me from fatherlessness to make me His. When I was made his child, I gained all the rights and privileges of an heir. Caleb now has all the rights and privileges of a Walker. When I was given my new name and clothed in Christ’s righteousness, my former world was rejected. And though at times, I respond, as does Caleb, with loving affection, I often forget that I am God’s child and attempt to still live the life of an orphan, kicking at my Father, begging selfishly for my way, not His, clawing and scratching at the One who redeemed me. But He loves me yet. And I love Caleb. Not easily; but with sacrificial purpose because this is what adoption must be. I continue to be sanctified and hopefully will act more and more as a Christian with each passing day. I pray that Caleb, too, with devoted training, will act more and more as a family member in both the Walker home and in the family of God . Adoption isn’t necessarily pretty. But it is good.



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On another note, we need your prayer. Our visa interview is Monday and that will determine, in large part, whether or not we’ll return home on February 11th. There are also things in which to rejoice with us. We had visitors last night at our guest house (hotel). A couple from a local church came to call. We couldn’t find the church last week, but Steve finally tracked down a phone number and we contacted them. Ben and Lovin, our visitors, and church members, stopped by to introduce themselves and kindly arranged a ride for us so we can worship with them in the neighboring village this Sunday. And, on Saturday, Corey and I will head about 5 km north of Kampala (we’re staying about 8 km south) to visit the Ugandan girl, Ruth, that we sponsor through Compassion International. Though we gave short notice, Compassion was able to coordinate a visit to Ruth’s Project and home. We’re excited to meet this young lady for whom we’ve been praying and to whom we’ve been writing.
Since I'm posting this after-the-fact, pictured here,
Ruth shows me her grades while we sit at her Compassion Project

Well, Caleb awoke about five minutes into this post and I can no longer concentrate on my thoughts nor find time, between disciplining him, to write more. Please pray that I will be patient and long-suffering. Corey has been such an encouragement and example to me in this area.
We send our love to each of you. How terribly we miss you and long to be with you!

Love,
Wendy, for the three of us