These last few weeks, I have been really discouraged and felt like I was being attacked on all sides. I felt like someone was doing everything they could to make me want to give up on Uganda, to give up on the boys. Things I was really hopeful about, didn't work out. My dog died. Promises of help, never came through. Unkind words. One of the boys ran away. For others, it seems so easy. Crisis after crisis and I am not there.
So many things.
And I thought, maybe Uganda isn't in God's plan for me. Maybe that is why I am not back. Maybe I should give up, just get a job, and send money. The kids will be fine.
I actually considered it. In a moment of frustration and weakness, I considered never returning to Uganda. I thought about what I could do here, what kind of job I could have.
That is all I can say for that.
Thankfully yesterday happened and my hope has been restored. Even when I am angry at God or doubting that He has great things in store for me, He still loves me and wants to give me hope and encouragement. Yesterday was my reminder.
It started out at the market. It was an amazing day and people were buying the jewelry before I even had it displayed. They had kind and encouraging words. I left the market knowing that God loved these kids, He put them in my life and He would bring our family back together when the time was right. He promises that He will make everything beautiful in its time. I left the market knowing that when the time was right, it would be the most beautiful of days when I get back to Uganda.
It was enough.
But He didn't stop there.
I talked to the boys for over an hour. I had to apologize to one because I got angry the last time I spoke to him and it wasn't his fault. I thought he wouldn't want to talk to me but he did. He accepted my apology and moved on and was laughing and joking with me.
But He didn't stop there.
I was talking to one of the boys that has had a difficult time adjusting to living in the home. When he first got there, he stole so many things from everyone and caused so many problems until we discovered it was him. He has ran away at least twice, one time coming back with chicken pox. He is different now and is working really hard at school and trying to behave well.
The last time we talked last week he told me he had a story he wanted to tell me. As he was telling me the story, we ran out of airtime. I kind of forgot about it until yesterday. He said to me, "Don't you remember I was telling you a story? I never finished." And he began his story again. It was his story. His story of how he came into the house. When he was finished he said, "I sit here and wonder, why you took me? I was a bad boy. I don't get it."
I asked him if he wanted to know why and of course he said yes. I told him that I loved him and thought he deserved a chance. I told him I knew he could be different. I told him I knew he could be a good boy, I saw something in him and believed in him even if he didn't.
That these kids could see themselves how I do, or more importantly how God does. I wish that they could see that they were wonderfully made by an everlasting God with unfailing love. I wish that they could put their trust in their Creator knowing He made each one of them for a purpose. A good purpose.
The kids aren't the only ones that need that reminder. Sometimes I do too. Maybe so do you?
Today my hope is restored. My faith is in a God that loves these kids, and me, more than I can ever imagine. He works everything for His good. He makes everything beautiful in its time...in His time.
I pray that I never forget that again. I pray friends that you never forget it either and it would give you comfort if you are struggling or doubting of the great plans He has in store for you.