On Thursday, I was sitting in the “living room” talking with our host pastor and other pastors in Morekebu. They were insisiting that we come back to their village. Each one asked for our email addresses and demanded that we keep in touch. Pastor Francis began to tell me how much it meant for the team to be there. Never before had missionaries, especially white people, gone to that village. The people were willingly accepting Christ because we are proof that Christianity is a worldwide belief, not a conjured up story that’s only in Uganda. He said, unfortunately, that the people had gotten used to our being in the village and would ask when we’ll be back after we left. He said he’d tell them that we’ll be back, he just doesn’t know when. Talk about convicting!
You see, I finally realized that day the importance of our being in the village. Otherwise, those precious people would have been forgotten. People would not have accepted Christ. Thursday was satisfying because it made me feel like we have a purpose here..yet I was so humbled. Those beautiful people followed us in crowds, fed us expensive meat every day even though they only get in a couple times a week, sacrificed their few chairs so we didn’t have to sit on the ground, and knelt out of respect when they greeted us. Of all people to be so honored and welcomed, of all people to share Christ with those people, I was one that was chosen. I am so humbled, and so very very grateful.
Ephesians 3:8-9 “To me, though I am the very least of all the saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things.”
