It’s what the Lord has done in me

Let the weak say I am strong

Let the poor say I am rich

Let the blind say I can see

It’s what the Lord has done in me

I’ve been thinking about what the Lord has done in me while I’ve been here. In four days, I’m going home. But is it really home? Where is home? “Home is where the heart is.” Or maybe, “Home is where you feel the closest to your family and to the Lord.” The second one sounds more accurate. At least for me. When we were flying back from Kenya a few weeks ago, it was late at night. Just as we could see the twinkling lights from the city that I have called home for the last six months, I turned to my mom, with tears in my eyes, and said, “Mom, we’re home.” And I meant it.

During my time here, I’ve learned more than I ever thought would.  I learned about myself, my family, my friends, and my Lord. He has taught me to see sick children, and not to run away, afraid that I would catch whatever disease they had. God taught me to see sick children, and to run to them. To nurture them, and to not worry about whether I caught their disease. Even if I did, I would be treated with no hesitation by my pharmacist sister and brother.

When I first arrived here, I was hesitant to learn new things. It was sort of like I was trying to hide from something that would be a challenge for me. Now, I will eat or do anything that, in the US, would be considered, “dangerous,” or “inhumane.” In fact, yesterday, I ate crocodile. Yes, you read that right. Crocodile. And it was delicious! Another new thing I’ve learned: I see Jesus everywhere. In the little children, in my family, and in the homeless people on the streets of Kampala. But mostly in the little children. Sometimes, I just want to say, “Little Girl, you have some Jesus in your eyes. By that, I mean that I can just see Jesus when I look into her beautiful brown face.

“Let the blind say I can see.” My experience here has taught me how to see. Before, I was blind. Blind to my surroundings. I didn’t understand that there were literally millions of orphans who needed a mommy and a daddy to cuddle with. I was blind-or I guess you could say deaf-to the Lord speaking to me. I’m not saying that I can physically hear the Lord all the time. I’m just saying that I know what he wants me to do, and I’m doing it.

“Let the poor say I am rich.” Whenever we visit someone’s home in a village, we get to really see what poverty is. “Though I’m weak and I’m poor, all I have is yours. Every single breath.” The people really live that way. They just leak Jesus!  When I’m with them, in their houses that are smaller than my bedroom, I feel happier than when I am at home. Even though they’re poor, the people are more grateful than most Americans. They trust the Lord to provide them with food and water. They walk entirely by faith. At least the ones who can walk.

“Let the weak say I am strong.” When we were driving to church today, a man in a wheelchair (pushed by a teenage boy) came up to our window looking for money. This man not only had no legs; he had no hands, either. Even though he was weak, he was still smiling. He was being strong. Yesterday, I scraped my head on the barbed wire. Ouch! In that moment, I knew I needed to be strong. But I wasn’t really weak. Sometimes, we think we’re being strong, but really, we’re being tough. Being strong means having to fend for yourself. Being strong means being a seventy year old who doesn’t have a job because she can’t walk woman trying to take care of her daughter’s children.

When I go home, I’m going to miss a lot of things. Mostly my country, Uganda. But also the shrill cries of, “Mzungu, Mzungu!!” I’m actually tearing up right now just thinking about. Instead of thinking of it as a rude thing to yell at someone, I see it as a term of endearment. I know that the children don’t have bad intentions; they just don’t know our names. I will miss clinic work and children tugging on my skirt.  I will also miss sharing a room with my older sister. Did I mention I will miss my country?  Oh, Uganda, how you’ve changed me! It’s what the Lord has done in me.

Thanks for reading, Jennifer