Waking with hope
Yesterday was a long, long day . . . . Much longer for Scott and Jennifer and the team than for us . . . But here, still long.
This morning, though, I woke with supernatural hope; the people of God are praying because there is no other explanation . . . . . Despite swollen eyes from yesterday’s crying (okay, and it’s continuing today), I feel strong hope.
When the impossible things happen, the things you think God wouldn’t allow, it shakes the core of we are, because most acutely, who we are is based on who He is. And . . .
“He is not safe but He is good.” - Narnia
Though often quoted, that saying never grows old to me. I wonder how many times Christians from the earliest days in the garden until now, and not excepting Jesus Christ, were confronted with the unsafe goodness of God. I must admit I want Him to be safe. I want Him to promise me that the worse what-ifs in my mind can’t come true, that a “Good God” wouldn’t let that happen, but history tells me otherwise.
And it throws us right back to the truth that Ugandans, to believe, must confront almost every day of their lives. Can we trust a God who is not safe, but is good. Can we trust Him through deep sorrow, through total lack of understanding, through hopeless, helpless circumstances so much bigger than us that they dwarf even our comprehension. This is the very reason we go to the “ends of the earth” to tell our dear Babwisi friends the Good News. We want to give them hope in hopelessness, help in helplessness, joy in sorrow. And we do that as we remind them that He has already overcome the world and that His kingdom is coming. Strange to say that Ebola is not so different from a Babwisi perspective than all the other diseases and hardships of their lives; to them it is deadly, mysterious, and unconquerable. Yet Jesus came to conquer, to set captives free, to release those held in bondage . . . And there is no better description of a tribal people still enslaved in witchcraft, poverty, illiteracy and disease.
We thought His Kingdom would come through Dr. Jonah, in some substantial measure, in Bundibuygo. And perhaps it still will. I know with certainty that Jonah is now in the home that God has prepared for him from before the beginning of time, and I imagine that His understanding is perfected and that He now sees the whole story and that He is the only one who smiles because now it all makes sense.
And won’t it all make sense if beautiful, precious, enslaved people see Jesus . . . . Keep praying with Hope.



