Monday, April 21, 2014

Do Something.

My heart is heavy as I return to posting about our trip to Uganda. It's been a month since I wrote about our time with the witchdoctors and you may have wondered about the sudden silence. The answer to that is complicated. Besides the single-parenting while Mike was away, my computer crashed and all my photos are gone. It's true: I did not back them up. *Sigh* We are fervently praying that the repairs will be finished soon and that the photos - at the very least - will be recovered.

But more significant than either of those things is the fact that the witchdoctor day was really hard to put down on paper. It was really difficult to walk through. No words, no matter how carefully crafted, could do justice to the redemptive beauty of those Ugandan women and their children despite the horrific atrocities they have lived through. My heart simply couldn't move on. It has had to re-process what we felt that day. And if you really want to know the truth: My heart just can't get over it. 

I would like to tell you that it's been easy settling back into our world here in the United States of America. I'm sure it would be easier to cope if there was a compartment somewhere in my every day world where I could place that experience, filing it away as if it were some old photograph only to be pulled out when it's time to purge or re-organize. But I don't have a place to put it. It's carried around heavy on my heart all day long, every day of the week. I simply can't escape it.

As a couple, Mike and I are wrestling through what God wants us to do with it. It's not acceptable to the Lord that we see the need and are moved but simply walk on by. It's not okay for us to care just long enough to share it verbally with others, wow-ing them with a great missionary story and then quickly forgetting about it because life is so darn busy here. He exposed it to us for a reason.

We've spent the last couple of weeks wrestling, and I do mean wrestling with God, and we are excited to share with you that God is working, stirring, moving us to do something. (I know, I know...thanks to Matthew West "Do Something" has become the mantra of many. It's overused. And yet, it's spot on. We are all called to do something.)

And do you know what? Your something probably won't look like my something. Your something may be something that is difficult for me, something way outside of my comfort zone. That doesn't make it any less significant or important than what God leads me to do. It's just different. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just different.

For example: There is an awesome guy in our church who has an incredible heart for the homeless in Boulder Valley. He recently decided that it was time to do something about it and is having the time of his life as he learns how to love on and serve those men & women. There is a beautiful mom in our church who has an amazing heart for children. She's raised a whole crew of biological children already and now is full of joy doing it again with another bundle of former foster kids that she has now adopted. Another friend at Valley has faithfully loved countless people with her unfailingly merciful and gentle heart; people who were down-and-out or battling tremendous discouragement. Some of you love to provide meals. Some of you buy gifts. Others invite yourselves over when you sense someone is going through a challenging time. There are some who are gifted letter-writers and others who love to hug. Each of us has our own way of doing something to make a difference in the life of another.

It doesn't have to be the same. God doesn't intend for us to bless others the exact same way as one another. We are part of the same body but we all play a different role. Just do something.


1 comment:

  1. I loved this: "Your something probably won't look like my something. Your something may be something that is difficult for me, something way outside of my comfort zone. That doesn't make it any less significant or important than what God leads me to do. It's just different." Amen.

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