A Last Word from Uganda

I am posting our last monthly reflection written in Uganda as our last word before leaving indefinitely for the US. My (Eric) departure for Ohio is just hours away. We are grateful that we were allowed these 15 months here in Africa. Blessings to you all and we'll see you on the other side. Hopefully I'll be able to post more pictures when I arrive in the US, as the internet speed has made this difficult here....

This will be the last reflection written to you from Uganda. In a short while our time here will come to a close and a new era in our lives will begin. These points of transition often give one pause – they are a time to ruminate on the direction one’s life is taking and to contemplate where one’s life has been. One question I (Eric) have been asking myself is, “What will I miss from my time here in northwestern Uganda?” The answer to this question is manifold. I could speak of the dear friends and colleagues that have played important roles in our work and lives this past year; I could speak of the beauty of the clear, star studded sky when staying over in a village with no threat of light pollution; I could speak of the warmth and hospitality with which we have been greeted and welcomed by partners and communities; I could speak of the resilient people we have interacted with, befriended, and served during our time here.

While I could easily speak about the above items, and many more like them, I have chosen instead to discuss one part of our reality here in northwestern Uganda that, yes, I will miss, but that also provides an analogy for the transition experience we are going through. Uganda is a beautiful country. I have found this to be especially true of our area of operation in the West Nile region. I have spent a great deal of time traveling this past year to and from Kampala in the southeast. But I always experience a lightening of the heart when I cross Pakwatch Bridge and return to the familiarity and beauty of West Nile. West Nile is full of grand vistas overlooking shaded valleys with grassy hills rolling off into the distance and the occasional babbling brook running through. Everywhere you drive, the landscape is incredibly alive and full of every shade of green that you can possibly think of. I will miss being surrounded by this inspiring scenery, even as I look ahead, intent on the road before me as it cuts through the lush countryside like a gray paved or red clay scar.

The other day I made my last community visit. In my drive home from Kucwiny, a small village nestled in the middle of the Padyere grasslands, I found myself contemplating the theme of life as a journey. What I discovered was that I could only really know the road that stretched out behind me. I could know what I had passed by, what I had seen, what I had experienced. But the road ahead was always less certain. There are many bends in that road; there are many points at which you cannot see what is around the next turn. Our life journey has brought us to such a bend in the road. We are peering around it, trying to know what is next, trying to understand the situation we have been faced with. But while there is uncertainty in driving into the unknown, we can still have the confidence that comes from the knowledge that God has ordered our journey up to this point and the faith that God has, “plans to give [us] hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).

I could say many things about where I draw hope from during times of transition, but I will mention just one. I personally feel hopeful when I am mindful of the fact that the road representing my life is just one among many such roads. Every heart that beats this day, every life that has ever existed, is also on a journey. In the end, all these life journeys flow into the great story of our time, that is, the history of the entire world. And as when I cross over Pakwatch Bridge and enter back into West Nile, it brings a sense of lightness to my heart when I remember that the path the world is on will one day bring it back to a beautiful country. Indeed, the day is coming, and could even be upon us, when the world will pass over a bridge representing the old order of things and enter into a country that resemble, but also magnifies, the former glory of the Creation. It will be a land marked with rolling hills, shaded valleys, babbling brooks, and grand vistas. It will be a country full of life, hope, and promise. This land is not West Nile. This land is called New Earth.

“Behold,” cries God in Isaiah 65, “I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I will create, for I will create Jerusalem to be a delight and its people a joy. I will rejoice over Jerusalem and take delight in my people; the sound of weeping and of crying will be heard in it no more. Never again will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his years; he who dies at a hundred will be considered accursed. They will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit. No longer will they build houses and others live in them, or plant and others eat. For as the days of a tree, so will be the days of my people; my chosen ones will long enjoy the works of their hands. They will not toil in vain or bear children doomed to misfortune; for they will be a people blessed by the Lord, they and their descendants with them. Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear. The wolf and the lamb will fee together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox, but dust will be the serpent’s food. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain.”

Amen! What a beautiful destination we are heading toward!

All of life is transition. But we can hold on to the certainty that in New Earth, as explained in Revelations 21, “the dwelling of God [will be] with men, and he will live with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” The trick, I think, is to act as if it were wholly up to us to get the world to this point, to pray as if it were wholly up to God, and to live as if the beauty of New Earth were already an undeniable and present reality both in our hearts and in the world today. Even as I prepare for this last trip out of Uganda, even as I leave West Nile behind for the foreseeable future, I wish you God’s blessings in your own life journey.