A House on the Rock

Sometimes you just need to walk around with eyes open and heart willing to seek out the people who are searching for answers. As we walked down a road praying that God would lead us to these, we felt drawn to a row of colored doorways down an alleyway. We soon found ourselves in the heart of a compound, likely shared by many families. There was a common area for refuse, overlaid with tree branches to help people navigate the path around, and along the path were women and children bent over in customary form over buckets washing clothes and dishes and doing the work of running life in the village. The smell of fires under jiko stoves with promises of beans and poshu and other native foods that fill bellies were lit and ready for preparing the evening meal.

We walked up to a young man, probably 25 or so, and he immediately offered chairs for us to sit in. After explaining why we were there, which was to encourage him and hear about ways we could support him, we settled into a time of fellowship. When we first sat down, I was aware of His sad countenance. He looked as if he carried the world upon his shoulders. We discovered that he was a pretty secure businessman who traveled a lot in order to take care of his family. He had a wife, and two children, one who was still an infant that came crawling out to greet us in our circle. He whisked her up like any proud father and kissed her sweet face. I have enjoyed how much affection fathers and mothers shower on their children in Uganda.

From my vantage point, I could see beyond the house we were at and looked in awe at the massive rock this compound was built upon. I imagine the many generations of people who had likely built upon this rock for safety. It was high on the hill where we had walked and overlooked the gorgeous valley below. There were clothes lines, fire pits and likely shrines throughout the width of it. As I imagined all the people who had come and gone, I knew that our new friend had discovered a great place to raise his children.

We smiled shyly at one another at first because as with any new friendships, we share only our humanity. Regardless, it is remarkable that humility and a desire to be with others governs this country in so many ways. Everywhere we go, people want to talk, they want to relate, they want to share what is on their mind, and they want to hear your thoughts. Hospitality here is like the warm hug from your sweet grandmother, as if always hoping and waiting for someone to hold. To turn someone away would be completely upside down.

Samuel was his name and as it turns out, he did not know that His Maker is His Father and that He wanted a relationship with him through His son Jesus. He did not know that the creator of the earth wants to talk to him and be his friend. He had no idea that he could talk to his Heavenly Father every minute of every day and that he was loved so magnificently. So we talked for a couple of hours, and encouraged one another, because he had things to say as well. In the end, Samuel told us that he had never heard such things and that he was so grateful that we took the time to explain the answers to his questions and to help him with the troubles of his heart. He was visibly moved. He hugged us and shook our hands, then he invited us back the next week so that his entire extended family could hear about this and so that they could all be adopted together. 

Samuel is just one of the many people who don’t know who knit them together and why, who live without peace in a country filled with injustice, poverty, and pain. I am overwhelmed with gratitude to be a part of this story… may we all embrace the ones in front of us and tell them the glorious truth of their savior. Love wins.