My newest faith journey has begun. I have arrived on the
sacred soil of Uganda, Africa. My new home is located in the fertile mountains
of Kabale. I am simply amazed at how green and productive the agriculture is here.
All our food comes farm to table. The banana plantations are enormous. Lake
Victoria is one of the great wonders of the world, and it produces many fish
for the people. Cattle, goats, and chickens are free range raised. Watermelon,
pineapple, cabbage and carrots are plentiful.
I walk the mountain roads each morning at day break. I am
greeted by many people starting their daily journey. They inspire me with
their kind greetings and work ethic. Their job may be preparing the soil,
carrying water back to the village, attending school or working in the
city. They do it with a spirit of gratitude.
Many of the faces are tired from the difficult journey of
walking these mountains, yet all greet me. We greet each other with
gracious community and care. They are very present to each other in there
communication; it is so genuine and warm. The smiles are so, so real.
Please picture this with me. I was walking the many steep
roads this last Sunday morning. The mountains were overcast and full
of a very heavy fog. I could only see 10-12 feet ahead of me and only
two-to-three feet above me. The mountain roads have many trails and small paths
that lead to other homes and villages.
I started my journey about 6:00 am. After walking a
few blocks, I saw an elderly woman appear in front of me, stepping out of the
fog, dressed in traditional African attire. Her dress was bright yellow and
looked amazing with her matching hat. She greeted me with a warm Ugandan
smile.
My journey went on for an estimated four miles on this
route. The same scenario repeated itself hundreds of times. Many people
appearing out of the fog dressed to perfection, walking four miles, many
much longer, going to Mass at the Cathedral. I was simply amazed to see the
Cathedral full for the 7:30 am service.
I thought I left the richest country in the world. I
was wrong; I landed in it. That Sunday morning, tears came to my eyes. I had
seen Christ on the small trails in the mountains of Kabale, and for the first
time, I walked along-side Him. God chooses the broken to walk with him. I am
and was truly broken. Christ carried me to Kabale. I walked with him on the
mountain trails; I will never be the same. I was called to Kabale, I thought,
to help fix it. It is simply not broken. I was called to Kabale to fix me.
Christ chooses the broken and scarred. He chose me for this mission.
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Lake Bunyonyi |
I have been assigned six large projects by Bishop Callist to
complete in the next three years. When I was broken I couldn't build a dog
house or plant a garden. Take a good look at these projects three years
from now. If I get tired, my guess is, I will be carried, somehow. I
am no longer broken, I will not be broken again.
|
Tea Plantation |
Please stay tuned to my blog and faith journey. It is going
to be a great ride.