The teenage years...

While spending time with the teens from the nearby village, I was once again aware that teens are teens no matter where they are from. In fact, this is something I have consistently seen in all the times I have been in other places in the world. People simply need to be seen and known, and for some the need presses even further into discovering the “why?” that they exist. As I shared about identity and sonship and lies we believe, I noted the intensity of the way they each looked at me. It was as if they were trying to find strength in the passion of my words in hopes that they would feel a relief from the pressures of their lives. Admittedly, the life of a teen in a developing country, especially one who lives in the village rather than the city, presents its own set of unique challenges. For instance, 15 year old Kevin once shared his prayer request with me, “please ask God to give me an orange.” Big and small needs are real. Regardless, teens look to one another for identity, reassurance, and community and grown ups can only offer the wisdom they have gained through navigating the tumultuous storms of those years themselves. Though I know that what I shared was true, what was more true is that their answer did not lie in words, rather in relationship with their maker.

So my ultimate hope and prayer was that His presence would be real, that the prince of peace would show up and that the revelation they needed would be the merciful gift of their father that day. We broke into small groups and a group of precious teens literally laid themselves on me, draping themselves in my lap and under my arms and such like a tight fitting garment. I could feel their hearts beating and their sweat and their desires for God to be real, as they told me their needs. Sadly, my hopes for them far exceeded their own, at least in what they shared. I long for all of us to be awakened to God and His great love for us. We cried out to God together, with one heart, trusting in the mystery that we all belonged to Him and to one another. The beautiful Muslim in my arms asked me to pray for her to have understanding. So I did. Then there was Daphne, whose name is as delightful as she is, who laughed when I thought she told me she wanted marriage but she really said knowledge. The one whose name I never got rolled her eyes and begrudgingly spoke. Her closeness to me as she laid her head on my lap told a different story however. Only God can weave our lives together with himself and work all things together for good. Prayer brings us together, and knowing that someone cares and will share in both burdens and joys is reassuring no matter who you are.

After all the heartfelt lessons and prayers, we joined together in the one room church, as rain poured down, and we sang and danced as one with such a massive outpouring of joy and with such intensity that I know that God was with us, dancing amongst us and celebrating love that was shared. Moments like these make me so grateful to be alive, and to share life here. Thank you so much for believing in me. I can’t wait as this story continues to unfold.

Pray with me like Paul for all of us, and especially the ones He has sent me to in Uganda, “and I pray that he would unveil within you the unlimited riches of his glory and favor until supernatural strength floods your innermost being with his divine might and explosive power. Then by constantly using your faith, the life of Christ will be released deep inside of you, and the resting place of his love will become the very source and root of your life.” Ephesians 3:16-17