So, for all my excitement at having Musa home, its been a roller coaster of a few days. Friday Musa came home, and it was a great day. Saturday, not so much. Not 24 hours into his being home, Musa started to convince Sabote to run away back to Kisenyi. He threw out offers of drugs, easy money, and chicken dinner (don’t know who was going to buy them that, but he was sure they could find someone) at Sabote. This was especially hard to watch because Sabote really didn’t want to go. He resisted for several hours, telling Musa “this is our home now, and I don’t want to go”. He even sat with me, not 30 min before they left, holding my hand and telling me “I love you and this home. I am not leaving”. Eventually Musa left on his own, but then proceeded to shout at Sabote through the gate for another hour. This was finally too much for Sabote, and he joined Musa in running away. That evening on the phone, I told Abby “well, Musa and Sabote are gone, but at least Waswa is doing really well” (Waswa has been struggling with tantrums when he is upset). That was our Saturday...
Early this morning (Sunday), like at 6AM, I heard the boys shouting and yelling. Who was out the gate wanting to come in? Sure enough, Sabote and Musa had spent one night on the streets, and decided it was not worth it at all. Sabote was in tears, apologizing and begging to come back in, and after hearing both boys apologize, we let them come home. After all the boys were back inside, they got ready for church. We decided to try the Anglican church across the street. A few min into the service, all the boys except Joseph fell asleep. They were dismissed for Sunday school, and most of them decided to go home and sleep instead. Not okay...
Shortly after church, I was in my room when I heard shouting from the living room. Alex had gotten in a fight with Waswa, and Waswa (sweet soul that he is) was very, very upset. When he cries over things like this, he is actually expressing deeper heart wounds; things which are still unknown to me. Watching Waswa sob over this pain, so deep inside, I realized my complete and total helplessness in the situation. And it broke my heart. Now, I attend Calvary Chapel in Kampala, and I was wanting to catch the last sermon of the morning. When the fight broke out, I was preparing to leave. Now, crying under my sunglasses, I asked Sam what we should do about it all. He told me that we had done what we could, and that going to my own church would be good for me. On the way out the gate, I found Waswa sobbing still, and invited him to go with me. Waswa has been doing really well this week. He is not picking fights, and he has offered to do the dishes at every meal as well as thank Harriet. He has also been great at participating in devotions each night. I wanted to reward his good behavior, and so he came with me. On the boda into town, he leaned his head back to tell me “mom, I love you”.
In church, I cried most of the service. I cried for all the hurts I cannot heal. I cried for the feeling of complete powerlessness. I cried for the endless battles that it has taken and will take to love and raise these boys. I cried for the challenge, and the calling, and the task. There was a verse in one of the songs that said ‘His path is narrow, but His burden light’. Can I be honest? I don’t feel like this burden is very light. Worth it, yes 100%. But light? I feel like the call is hard, and I chose to answer it because I love Jesus and these boys. But sometimes, it is so much. And I know He is with me always, and I trust that my faith will produce good works, and that He will bless my efforts. But I am not enough for this, and today as Waswa was screaming and crying, I was the one holding him. One of those empty moments, where I wish the arms of my Father were real around me, His voice audible with advice or encouragement. His promise to overcome these hardships clear in my ears as well as my heart.
At the close of service, the band played ‘Revelation Song’, which is my favorite worship song. The main chorus goes Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God, Almighty/ Who was and is, and is to come/ With all Creation I sing, praise to the King of Kings/ You are my everything/ and I will adore you.
I will adore You when it hurts
I will adore You when I cannot see further than my own weakness.
I will adore You when I cannot feel You.
I will adore You when I feel I am drowning in this calling.
I will adore You when things are good, and I see Your fingerprints on everything.
I will adore You when You bless these boys, and the work of my hands.
I will adore You in the joy, and the sorrow.
I will adore You. I will adore You. I will adore You.
Loving Christ is a daily choice. Loving these boys is an hourly one. I will choose this until God fulfills His promises to me (that I can do this work, through Him who gives me strength). And when He does, I will have new strength to choose Him again.
Beautiful paradox.
Early this morning (Sunday), like at 6AM, I heard the boys shouting and yelling. Who was out the gate wanting to come in? Sure enough, Sabote and Musa had spent one night on the streets, and decided it was not worth it at all. Sabote was in tears, apologizing and begging to come back in, and after hearing both boys apologize, we let them come home. After all the boys were back inside, they got ready for church. We decided to try the Anglican church across the street. A few min into the service, all the boys except Joseph fell asleep. They were dismissed for Sunday school, and most of them decided to go home and sleep instead. Not okay...
Shortly after church, I was in my room when I heard shouting from the living room. Alex had gotten in a fight with Waswa, and Waswa (sweet soul that he is) was very, very upset. When he cries over things like this, he is actually expressing deeper heart wounds; things which are still unknown to me. Watching Waswa sob over this pain, so deep inside, I realized my complete and total helplessness in the situation. And it broke my heart. Now, I attend Calvary Chapel in Kampala, and I was wanting to catch the last sermon of the morning. When the fight broke out, I was preparing to leave. Now, crying under my sunglasses, I asked Sam what we should do about it all. He told me that we had done what we could, and that going to my own church would be good for me. On the way out the gate, I found Waswa sobbing still, and invited him to go with me. Waswa has been doing really well this week. He is not picking fights, and he has offered to do the dishes at every meal as well as thank Harriet. He has also been great at participating in devotions each night. I wanted to reward his good behavior, and so he came with me. On the boda into town, he leaned his head back to tell me “mom, I love you”.
In church, I cried most of the service. I cried for all the hurts I cannot heal. I cried for the feeling of complete powerlessness. I cried for the endless battles that it has taken and will take to love and raise these boys. I cried for the challenge, and the calling, and the task. There was a verse in one of the songs that said ‘His path is narrow, but His burden light’. Can I be honest? I don’t feel like this burden is very light. Worth it, yes 100%. But light? I feel like the call is hard, and I chose to answer it because I love Jesus and these boys. But sometimes, it is so much. And I know He is with me always, and I trust that my faith will produce good works, and that He will bless my efforts. But I am not enough for this, and today as Waswa was screaming and crying, I was the one holding him. One of those empty moments, where I wish the arms of my Father were real around me, His voice audible with advice or encouragement. His promise to overcome these hardships clear in my ears as well as my heart.
At the close of service, the band played ‘Revelation Song’, which is my favorite worship song. The main chorus goes Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God, Almighty/ Who was and is, and is to come/ With all Creation I sing, praise to the King of Kings/ You are my everything/ and I will adore you.
I will adore You when it hurts
I will adore You when I cannot see further than my own weakness.
I will adore You when I cannot feel You.
I will adore You when I feel I am drowning in this calling.
I will adore You when things are good, and I see Your fingerprints on everything.
I will adore You when You bless these boys, and the work of my hands.
I will adore You in the joy, and the sorrow.
I will adore You. I will adore You. I will adore You.
Loving Christ is a daily choice. Loving these boys is an hourly one. I will choose this until God fulfills His promises to me (that I can do this work, through Him who gives me strength). And when He does, I will have new strength to choose Him again.
Beautiful paradox.
No comments:
Post a Comment