In my last post, I was “abiding.” That was before the past four days. I know Mom said there’d be days like this, but we’re more than halfway to a full week…and counting.
I almost don’t even know where to begin. This has been a week of daily tragedies. Something new every day that rocks my world, shakes me to the core, and tests the limits of my faith. Something new every day that causes me to cling to the feet of the one on the throne, to grab the very soles of His feet and hang on for dear life, to trust that somehow, some way He knows what He is doing and has all of this chaos under control. Something that makes me lift my tear-filled eyes to meet His, searching, seeking for assurance and answers. Something that makes me realize how incapable I am of handling life on my own. Something that makes me know how desperately and completely I need Him.
So, in a nutshell, here is the week-at-a-glance…and bear in mind, it’s only Wednesday.
Sunday
We received word that the organization we will be working with in Uganda – an organization that is dedicated to rebuilding the lives of orphans devastated by years of war and civil unrest, an organization whose very name infuses HOPE into the lives of the hopeless, an organization of peace and love and healing in Jesus’ name – was the victim of serious (and false) legal and political accusations. In order to protect those involved, I will not share the nature of these accusations, but be assured they were serious enough to shut down the whole operation and destroy all that God has spent the last three years building up.
Monday
I awoke to the horrific news of the bombing in Kampala. Our church had just sent a team there to do church planting/revival and medical clinics. In fact, Sunday’s worship service was a celebration of their trip and reports from the various team members who participated. One of the local nurses who worked with our group lost her 26-year-old daughter in the bombing. And most of you have probably heard of the tragic death of Nick Henn, who worked with Invisible Children rescuing Acholi orphans from devastating circumstances. Though I don’t have a direct connection to Nick or Invisible Children, the organization I will be traveling to Uganda with (and yes, we will be traveling through Kampala on our way home) also supports Acholi orphans. We are definitely on the same team, and for that, I feel a special kinship with Nick Henn.
Tuesday
We received a call from some dear friends whose lives have become intricately layered with ours over the past couple of years informing us that the husband had been seriously injured in a motorcycle accident that evening on his way home from work. Though his injuries do not appear at this point to be life-threatening, they are multiple and serious, and will require a rather long rehabilitation. To make matters worse, it was the day of their 14th wedding anniversary.
Wednesday
And then came today and an unforgettable “good news/bad news” phone call. We had planned to take advantage of a discount ticket opportunity to visit Hawaiian Falls for the day. Matt had gone in to work and would plan to meet us around 2:30. The kids and I would arrive closer to lunch time and enjoy a picnic-style lunch before splashing our way through the afternoon. About 11:30, as I was on my way to the park, Matt informed me that the good news was he was leaving then to meet us, since he had the rest of the day off. The bad news…you guessed it. He also has tomorrow off. And Friday. And next Monday. And so on. And so on. A baker’s dozen of employees were let go today and he was one of the “unlucky 13.” And while we are optimistic and have faith that ultimately God will provide – a new job, finances in the meantime, and full funding for my trip to Uganda now that we have no “fallback” option – that doesn’t mean that the process is easy. It’s discouraging. It’s disheartening. It’s depressing. It’s stressful. And only God knows what the future has in store – for us, for Matt, for our home and ministry and family.
At this point, I might be tempted not to wake up tomorrow. To fear what lies ahead and what tragedy awaits in the next 24 hours. But thankfully I know the One who holds tomorrow:
- He’s the Judge, who will deliver justice to those who oppose His plans.
- He’s the Conqueror, who will destroy His enemies and reign victorious.
- He’s the Great Physician, who heals our wounds, and restores us to life abundant.
- He’s the Provider, who ensures our needs are met above and beyond anything we could ask or imagine.
He is. He was. He ever will be. And I will choose to cling to Him.