I write this sitting outside with no shower for the 3rd
night in a row. No water. I am to the point that I am wishing for a cold shower
right now. With how hot it has been for the past week the thought of the
freezing water splashing all around me and running through my hair sounds like
a spa treatment.
The honeymoon is over.
It has almost been 6 months since I landed here at Plot 157
Kubamitwe, Uganda; 6 wonderfully trying months. I have been encouraged,
strengthened, pushed, and confronted in ways that I never expected. But no,
really, most of this I didn’t expect. I expected the cold showers, no showers,
bugs, lack of Target runs, and the severe absence of edible sushi. I expected
to be challenged in my walk with the Lord, to grow in my faith, and to make
friendships that would prove to be invaluable.
What I didn’t expect was the burdens that would be transferred
from those that I have come to love to my heart. I didn’t expect to spend days
and nights feeling as if my head is couldn’t hold one more thought. I didn’t
expect the guilt that I would feel at the fact that I have never suffered as
these people, that I have a seriously difficult time identifying.
I have lost people close to me before, either to death or
the fracturing of a relationship for one reason or another. I have felt the
pressure to make ends meet when it comes to bills, tuition, rent, and groceries.
I have been sick before, or known people close to me who have struggled with
illness; but everything that I search my brain for and identify as some sort of
trial pales in comparison to what those around me are dealing with.
Death, illness, broken families, hunger, anxiety, and
depression are rearing their ugly head in the lives of those that I have come
to love and been given the opportunity to minister to. Everyone has a story and
not many of them have a happy ending.
A couple of weeks ago an elderly lady in one of my Bible
studies lost her daughter to a botched surgery to remove the baby that she had
just miscarried. Esther, the lady in my Bible study, has a heart condition which
causes her to have a heart attack about once a month. Her daughter was the one
who rushed her to the hospital, which is about 45 minutes away, each time that
she would have an attack, and would provide the money for the treatment. Now
that her daughter has passed away Esther is grieved because she has lost her
daughter and anxious because there is no one who can care for her now. There is
only so much that I can do in this situation. I can’t go and live with Esther,
I can’t have her move in with us, I could pay for her hospital fees, but her
village is about 30 minutes away from mine, so if she was to somehow reach me
when she has an attack, it would take almost twice as long for me to get her to
the hospital. This is when helplessness sets in pretty hard.
It is somehow difficult to go spend the day with someone in
the village and help them wash their clothes by hand, pump their water from a
bore hole, cook their meal over a charcoal fire, dig their food from their
garden, and then sweep the dirt floor of their mud home and then go back to my
cushy house that has running water, a stove, and even a new washing machine
that I didn’t know how I was going to live without.
I have spent many nights praying and asking God to heal
those around me. Heal them physically, spiritually, and relationally; but what I
have come to see is that God can truly use suffering in someone’s life to bring
glory to himself and to grow that person in their faith. I can’t count the
number of times that I have heard this whether in church or a counseling class,
but for the first time in my life I think that I actually believe it. I have
actually come to believe 1 Peter 1:6-7 when it says, “in this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have
been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith – more precious than gold that perishes
though it is tested by fire – may be found to result in PRAISE & GLORY
& HONOR at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
I really believe that our suffering, no matter how severe,
is only for a little while. I see how it perfects our faith which is more
precious than gold. And I have witnessed those who suffer choose, through their
tears, to praise and worship our God who is worthy of glory and honor. God has
been teaching me so much about trusting in his future grace. He is using the
suffering of those around me to grow my faith and he is allowing me to witness
the heart change of these loved ones who are struggling with things that I can’t
begin to imagine dealing with.
As soon as I begin to feel guilty for the life that God has
given me to live compared to the one that he has given to those around me I
remember that we are all recipients of a future grace that proves this life to
be temporary. The focus is not on the things that we have in this life, but how
we glorify God in this life and hope for the one that is to come. I have
learned to go without many things, but I have also learned to be thankful for
the resources that God has given me and use them as selflessly as possible.
A quote from John Piper in his book Future Grace has served as a great encouragement to me these past
few months. It says, “Only if we trust God to turn past calamities into future
comfort can we look back with gratitude for all things…Be strong, and do not
doubt that God will be as gracious in the future as he has been in the past.” I
shared this with Esther as we sat and recounted all the ways that God has shown
her grace in the past, and I was able to witness her tears turn from sorrow to
rejoicing, she was not the only one who was praising God through their tears
that afternoon. He is so good. He is so very good beyond anything that I can
imagine or understand. The fact that we serve a God who can take terrible
suffering and turn it into a glorious thing brings me comfort that surpasses
all understanding.
Believer, contemplate your suffering today, whatever it
might be, and rejoice. Rejoice because God is a loving, powerful, sovereign God
who is for you, and secured for you a hope that is in heaven.
Though you have not
seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and
rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the
outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 1 Peter 1:8-9
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| One of the nicer houses in the village. Bricks made by hand, built with love by the people who call this place home. |
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| Cassava root. It looks gross, and sometimes it is, but it is a staple food around here. When in Rome... |
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| Some kids from the nearby town. Who doesn't love a photo-op? |
