Day Two Uganda
We made it through dinner and then crashed. Jet lag is not for sissies. But, first we spent a great part of the day meeting and hanging out with students at CSI Junior School. With so many of us new to the mission field, our chatter was a popcorn of conversation. We asked and re-asked questions of Wendi: what’s this going to be like? Can we take pictures? Do we have to wear a skirt? How much bug spray should we put on? What if I forget my name?
Well, maybe no one went that far, but we were full of anxious let’s-just-get-after-it energy. We walked up to the school and walked into the children’s chapel time in full swing. I’ve never seen kids jump for so long before. They worshiped and danced in their rickety little seats. When it was time to pray, they really let us know how it’s done.
Their teacher called up six or seven children and asked them each to pray for something different: parents, teachers, choices, school, students, and on. They took this time very seriously, not just throwing out a quick note to God. They began each prayer calling students to humble themselves before God and join them in prayer. Many students bowed their heads, some raised their hands, and others knelt. On the brick floor. For the entire prayer time.
I knelt down one time recently. It reminded me that my knees are 42 years old and dislike hard surfaces. It was impressive for many reasons, but mostly because they even considered the idea in the first place. This was their posture of humility in front of God, and I realized why I am here: to learn from another culture. Even on matters of the God we share.
Missions are a give and take relationship. So, we took so much from these kids. We gave them a mini celebration as they prepared for their last day of school. We brought music and crafts and games. We pulled classes 1-3 and split them into groups. The kids on our team led just as much as the adults, if not more. We made I-Spy bottle games, played tic-tac-toe, and the men took a group outside to play soccer on the field. One group even taught their students the classic Sunday school song, River of Life, complete with hand motions and a great big, “splish splash!”
But now, my thinker has gone to sleep, and I’m no longer able to form the words except to say #ohuganda