Since arriving back in Uganda about 9 months ago now, I've been a church hopper. This is very different from the last time I was here because last time I spent much of my time at United Faith Chapel at Kampala International University. I love that faith community and I love being a part of university ministries. Something was different for me this time though. I think many factors have played a role in my hopping. For one thing, the ladies from my discipleship group have all graduated and gone back to Kenya. I've only been able to see a few of them this year when they've been around on holidays. My heart misses that sweet group of young ladies. For another thing, my roommates during this past school year attended a church downtown pastored by a great guy, the father of some of the students at Heritage. I went there a few times with my roommates and a student from HIS. Another factor has been working with so many different cultures at the Centre of Hope means visiting churches of my students. It's really been interesting actually.
So anyways the church I attended the most last time has gone through a change in leadership in the past 5 or 6 months and it's been a bit rough on the community. The pastor that had been here for years went back to Kenya and was going to be traveling back and forth frequently, but that just hasn't been able to happen. I think that the people left in charge over here became very overwhelmed with the new responsibilities and commitments. AND obviously it's always difficult for a church body to go through a time of transition. It's been a tough season for them and it's been tough for me to see. On one hand I don't believe we should be so dependent on our head pastors that it's rough when they are reassigned, however I do recognize that we all get very attached to great pastors so accepting the change can be difficult.
Alright, let me tell you about church this morning...
I woke up with just enough time to grab a quick shower, throw my hair up in a ponytail, wrap my knee (in preparation for the 5-story climb to the church's meeting place at the university), grab some bread and peanut butter, and be on my way. I called my boda driver who is almost always available on Sunday mornings, especially when it is cloudy and cold like this morning. I hopped on the boda and we cruised on over to the university. I paid him and started the walk down the hill, onto campus. The charcoal-grey clouds were looming and very menacing looking. I mentally prepared myself for a wet boda ride home, thankful that I had remembered to throw a scarf in my bag.
As I approached the parking lot I didn't see any of the other missionary's vehicles and was a bit surprised. There's usually at least one other family there. I didn't mind though, it's sometimes fun being the only mzungu around. I climbed the stairs and when I reached the top (pitifully out of breath) I noticed how few students were actually there. Then realization hit that this weekend there was a spiritual retreat and most of the students were still gone on that. So I sat down with the approximately 150 people that were there and settled in for the sermon. Right after the announcements were finished and the speaker began the message, it began to pour. I'm not just talking a little drizzle, I mean an all out downpour. It was so white outside that I couldn't see the next building. We meet on the top floor of the building so the sound was loud enough to drown out the sound of the speaker. With my already bad ears, I knew there was no way I would be able to make out a word of what he was saying.
So I pulled out my Bible and began where I left off reading in 1 Peter. With the noise of the rain and the drone of the amplified voice that I couldn't make out, it was hard to concentrate. I plugged one ear and began to read aloud the words of Peter. The first chapter is a call to absolute holy living, to turn completely from your old life and walk forward fresh and new in Christ. By the time I had read and meditated on those words the rain began to slow and I could start to hear a few words here and there from the speaker. The first two words I could clearly hear him say were, "be holy." From there he explored a few different passages, ending with Jesus taking the wrath of God so we don't have to. All in all, a good message. I'm thankful for time to read on my own and also for time to hear to Word from the speaker.
The rain now at a steady, heavy drizzle I had to decide whether to wait it out or move forward. I decided to call my boda and begin my walk up to the main road to meet him. With my scarf covering my shoulders and my head bowed, I walked up the hill. There was a tent to stand under near the road, so I wasn't completely soaked by the time the boda arrived. The drive home was pretty frigid feeling to me which reminded me that in 3 months I'll be living in a subzero, icy tundra again. I'm shivering just thinking about it. So I'm home now, in dry clothes, sitting under my blankets, enjoying the sound of a church still worshipping down the hill. Some churches go all day and this one just down the hill from me is no exception. There's a very joyous sound to the beat and it's evident that they are loving praising Jesus this morning. :)
As for me, if the sun comes out I'll be outside getting some reading done this afternoon, if not I'm satisfied sitting in bed all snuggly and warm. At some point I have to run to the market because the only food I have is bread and peanut butter... I have to warm up before I can hop on another boda in the rain. I also have grad school research to do. I'm still not sure where I'm going or what I'm doing for certain, but I'm definitely leaning towards a Christian counseling degree. Very practical for my work as a missionary with youth and refugees and with youth ministry in the States. We'll see. First I think I have to take the GRE, which I'm dreading. I've been out of school for far too long. Prayers welcome. Happy Sunday!
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