Sunday in Uganda

It is quiet now. I am sitting alone in the hotel lobby with only Jesus beside me. He has shown me through the stench, the poverty, the despair, the feelings of helplessness of Uganda, of how much He loves me when He suffered and died on that old rugged cross. I was in that same poverty in my sin before I asked Jesus to come into my life and transform the dying rotten sin stained soul into a new life as vibrant and beautiful as the tropical setting where I now am. Oh how amazing is God's love. When you can see the love of God in a deplorable environment as the streets of Jinja, then I believe you are starting to see through God's eyes the love He has for each of you and me. It is easy to focus on the negatives that abound and lose sight of the work that God is doing here. Lives are being transformed. Death is dying and life is living among all the surrounding contradictions that threaten to engulf the senses. The enormity of the task could easily distract and carry one away. That is Satan's whole purpose, to deceive, to distract, to manipulate our thinking and emotions and leave us in a sense of despair.  One can not focus on the burns, the tumors, the distended bellies, the pipe cleaner sized arms and legs, the nakedness, the running sores, the elephant appearance of skin, and the scars. But then again maybe we need to focus on the scars because scars represent healing. Jesus has scars, He doesn't bare wounds. Those scars signify the healing available for all the ugliness sin has to offer. The burns, the diseases, the malnutrition, the oozing hurts, the bareness that the soul carries in a sinful state. Jesus quietly and gently comes in and begins to apply the oils, the lotions, the antibiotics, the bandages, the soap and water, the life-sustaining manna to the soul that causes transformation and trades our ashes for beauty. Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee, how great Thou art. None of this is a surprise to Him. He knew this day before I was formed in my mother's womb. He knew when I lay in a hospital bed in Billings, Montana in 2003 that I would be here writing this and that you would be there reading it. How amazing and awesome is that? Why would anyone walk away from a love like that? Why would anyone not want to trade sickness and death  and poverty of the soul for the living water that forever satisfies? Mike