Dear one,
Often I quip: “Live and learn,” but in truth I must regularly ask: “What have I learned?”
Since last I wrote, my/our flights from Chicago to Entebbe were uneventful but long. After nearly 44 hours in transit, I landed in Lira, Uganda—the last 3 hours aboard a high-winged Cessna: from 10,000 feet I delighted in seeing the vast, lush green of Uganda, a land Winston Churchill described as “the pearl of Africa.”
I have made several trans-Atlantic flights to Africa, but have I learned to anticipate how such travel interrupts my physical wellbeing? I wonder.
The day following our arrival, I joined others from Zionsville Presbyterian in a medical outreach, hosted by a local, village church. As was true last year, many of those who came to the clinic had head, joint, and/or gastrointestinal complaints; but at day’s end a young mother brought her two-year-old son. Because he had been born with cerebral palsy, his mother (and he) had been divorced by his father, whose family refused to accept such a child within their clan. In my view, the prognosis for mother and child is not hopeful.
I have seen abject poverty in Bangladesh, deprivation in Malawi, but have I learned to anticipate such realities—both their causes and consequences, and my inability to address them? I wonder.
Three days after our arrival, twenty-two pastors and I gathered to focus upon John’s Gospel and his account of Jesus’ arrest, trial, death, and resurrection. The twenty-two were attentive, and yet my questions and their responses seemed dissonant: not only do we speak different languages, but their reticence and formality in speaking left me puzzled. I sensed a disconnect, although our lead pastor spoke so very positively, even joyously regarding our first day’s interaction.
Upon a number of occasions I have related to and taught African pastors, but have I learned to anticipate our cultural differences? I wonder.
Now at the conclusion of the pastoral conference, without doubt it has gone very well—much better than I had anticipated, with the very real possibility that The Sent One will be translated into Luo, the language of northern Uganda.
How well I have anticipated these days, I question; nonetheless, I have known our Lord’s great faithfulness among pastors who have so little—and yet the rich harmonies of their voices in song are a treasure.
In these days I am learning afresh Jesus’ words: “[Father], just as you sent me into the world, I also sent them into the world” (John 17:18).
Still learning,
Stan