I Dreamed of Africa

With all the coverage in the news about the devastation in Haiti, it’s hard to think about much else these days.  And while that’s not necessarily a bad thing, I’ve found myself more and more thinking about Africa.  Uganda, in particular.  Remembering.  Reflecting.  Trying not to forget what I saw, what I experienced, what I learned.

A couple days ago, I had a dream about the children of Gulu.  I dreamed I was back there, watching them dance and listening to them sing.  In my heart, I ached to join them, to wrap my arms around them and laugh with them.  But they didn’t remember me.  They had moved on and I had been left behind.  I desperately wanted to help, to be involved with them, to be part of their daily lives, but I was an outsider and was not welcomed in.

That dream has stirred my heart to wonder: where do I fit in it all?  How do I keep my heart tender and sensitive to the great needs, the dire situations they face daily, while still focusing on my own family and the ministries God has called me to here in the states?  What does God want me to do with Uganda?

I don’t know the answers to those questions.  I’m still searching.  And I know that in time, those answers will come.  God will reveal His plan to me when the time is right, and when my heart is ready.  But until then, I will do what I can to remember the people of Gulu, the Acholi who have suffered so much.

I will tell others to raise awareness.  (please check out this link – sent by my brother – that provides good information and disturbing photographs of the very real situation faced daily by the Acholi: http://halsey.cofc.edu/exhibitions/2010/01_africa/01_genocide_HM.php)

I will pray.

I will give.

And hopefully someday soon, I will return.