Saturday 29 March 2014

General life and a moving story.

The last week or so I have still been caught up in bed, and resting at home.
It seems like I will go out to accomplish one or two tasks for the day, and then I need to go home and lie down and rest. Some times I spend the whole day in bed.
This disease which I have been suffering from really knocks it out of you, it is kind of like chronic fatigue.
If I ride my bike a short distance, I end up getting short of breath. So I have really been trying to rest and take it easy. I have four more days of medication before I go back for a check up.
It has been really helpful having Farouk, Beatrice and Agnes around. Programs can still run even when I am sick, because these guys are still working and helping to keep things running, especially Farouk.
So its great to be able to relax and rest without stressing too much about things not running.

Last week Friday night the local Anglican church ran another one of its over night prayer sessions. This time it was so loud, as they hired a few boom speakers. At 5.30 am they were still carrying on and making such loud noises, the sound actually carries right through the village. I know of many people who can never sleep on a Friday night here, because these churches pump their speakers up all night while praying, chanting, and sometimes screaming wildly.
Well I was very sick last week Friday night, suffering from typhoid and bruselia. So I was not so happy about it and decided to visit the pastor of the church the next day.
I managed to find the head bishop and the associate pastor of the church around midday, and sat down for a talk.
I decided to come in a spirit of kindness and grace, and I explained who I was, and encouraged them with the work that they are doing. I then mentioned if it is possible at all for them to keep the noise down, because they are keeping everyone awake on Friday nights. I did this in the most gentle way possible.
The response was actually really good! The pastors themselves don't go to the overnight prayer sessions, but they are run by another group. They said they were so sorry and were going to talk to the people who run these sessions.
They also thanked me for being frank with them, as they said many Ugandans will gossip and talk about there frustration with others, instead of directly talking with the church. So they were glad I spoke about it with them.
We also talked about how keeping everyone awake at night is not really the best way of showing the call of Jesus to "love your neighbor as you love yourself". And I talked about how there are many Muslims in this community, and doing this is certainly not attracting them to Christianity, but most likely pissing them off and pushing them away from the church (I didn't say it like that haha)
Last night was a Friday, and interestingly they made a bit of noise up to midnight, and then were rather quiet. So maybe my talking to the pastors actually helped.
Its amazing what can be accomplished when you talk directly to an issue in a calm gentle manor. Gossiping certainly doesn't work, and neither does attacking someone your annoyed at.

The other day I took Agnes to the good quality Muslim hospital here because she had a severe tooth ache. She has actually had this tooth problem for a long time (since I have known her, about two years) and she has always complained about it.
Last Thursday night she barely slept and was in agony with a throbbing tooth, so in the morning I took her to the hospital to have it checked out.
The modern hospital here has a really good dental section with top dentists in the country to help you with any toothy problems.
After xrays and examinations it was clear that Agnes had a very infected, rotted, back wisdom tooth. It had a huge cavity in it, and was already loose.
Basically there was no way to save the tooth.
So she had to brave it and sit back in the dentist chair, as the metal tools and clamps came out to remove the tooth.
Luckily it is a modern hospital, so she could get all the appropriate injections to numb her face and take away most of the pain as they removed it.
At least now she never has to worry about that tooth giving her problems.

I wanted to share a moving story with you that Farouk told me the other day. It is a rather personal story involving Farouk, so I have asked his permission to post it on my blog, as I think many people may find it inspiring and moving.
He said it was fine for me to write about it.
Last week Farouk's uncle passed away. He had liver cancer and has been rather sick the last year. But there is so much to this story surrounding his death.
Farouk's background story is that he is actually an orphan. At the age of 12 both his parents died in a car accident and he and his younger brothers were left as orphans. Farouk could of been ok, because his parents had a bit of wealth which could of helped him and his brothers. But this uncle took all of the wealth from Farouk's deceased parents, and then outcasted Farouk and his brothers to fend for themselves.
The next 8 or 9 years of life for Farouk would include extreme poverty, homelessness, hard labor, scavenging for food just to get by, and a tragic way of life.
Farouk basically managed to get himself, and the brother that follows him, through high school (minus the last two years). This was not easy, it included a traumatic life, where Farouk's only way of survival to help him and his brothers, was indoctrination into a very hardcore gang. Farouk still carries some of the scars on him, in regards to some of the things he was involved in with this gang, just to survive.

And that is what Farouk is, a survivor.

He managed to get his life together and have his life turned around by the gospel, to where he is now a positive force for good in the community, instead of one of destruction and violence.
And Farouk was propelled into this tragic hard life, all because his uncle refused to care for them, and took the money rightfully inherited to Farouk and his brothers.
Farouk obviously carried around a lot of resentment towards his uncle over the years, due to the hurt and pain he caused him.
The last few years though it seems that his uncle, nearing the end of his life, was realizing the pain he had caused, and tried to make amends.
He started sponsoring Farouk's youngest brother, and a number of times asked Farouk to meet with him.
Farouk never got to meet with him, and has been hesitant over the years.
But last week, as his uncle was dying in the hospital, he begged his family to contact Farouk so he could speak to him before he died.
It seemed he was desperate to talk to Farouk and make things right before he passed away.
Farouk got the call and rode his bike as fast as he could to the hospital, only to find that as he rushed into the room, his uncle had died only a minute or so ago.
Farouk said the body was still warm. He was that close.
Obviously this hurt Farouk so much, because he had forgiven his uncle in his heart, and had never got the chance to tell him.

But what happened next was truly moving.

The doctor approached Farouk and asked him if he was the nephew that the uncle was desperate to see. After confirming this, the doctor told Farouk to reach into his uncles back pocket, as his uncle had told the doctor to keep it a secret, if he died and Farouk hadn't come yet.
Farouk pulled out a letter addressed to him from the back pocket of his dead uncle.
As Farouk opened it up and read it, he told me that he begun to cry in the hospital. The letter basically confessed everything his uncle had done to him, and was saying that he was greatly sorry for what he did to Farouk, and he was asking Farouk to please forgive him.
Farouk told me that at the bottom of the letter he found directions to go with his family and relatives to a certain bank, where Farouk's uncle had deposited something for the whole family.
So after arranging the body for burial, the whole family went to the bank. This uncle of Farouk's actually left behind 13 children, so there were many uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers and children going along to the bank to see what Farouk's uncle had left behind for them all.
When they arrived they found that the bank was holding a letter from the uncle, and would not give it to anyone but Farouk. As the family stood around the bank, Farouk opened the letter to find that it was his uncles will.
Farouk's uncle was actually rather wealthy, and owned a house, a large property and a few machines for sugar cane planting.
As they read the will together they were all shocked to see that the uncle had left every bit of wealth and property he had owned, to Farouk.
This is a man who left behind 13 children, all very poor, but was obviously so convicted on how he had treated Farouk, that he left everything in his name.
Everything.
But the part that moved me the most, was when Farouk explained to me, with tears in everybody's eye, wondering what Farouk would do, he looked up at them and said something that would shock them. Farouk told them that he was doing ok, he had a job with YSU and was able to support his family. And then he told them that he would hand over everything back to the children and family of his uncle.
He gave it all away.
You may not realize the significance of this. Here in Uganda, everyone dreams of having their own house and property, and here was Farouk giving it all away, when he rightfully should of owned it, especially after everything his uncle did to him.
He told me that all his cousins came to him with tears in their eyes, thanking Farouk from the bottom of their hearts that he would give all of this wealth to them, especially after what his uncle did to him.
He then told his family that he had forgiven his uncle from the bottom of his heart.

It was a family reconciled.

I remember sitting in my room talking about it with Farouk, when he told me everything. He had been rather emotional for a few days so I had wanted to know what had been bothering him, when he told me all of this.
But he then said to me something that moved me. He said "Brother, the reason I can forgive my uncle, and the reason I need to forgive him, is because Jesus told us to forgive. And the way I will be forgiven reflects on how I forgive others".
He then told me that he doesn't need all this wealth, because the bible tells him to store up treasures in heaven, and not to be consumed with storing up treasures here on earth.
Here is a guy who has been betrayed, an orphan, a reject, an outcast, who has lived his life in extreme poverty, finally getting the chance at a life of wealth.
And yet he gave it all away in an instant, out of love for his cousins who are struggling and need help.
Farouk is just getting by, and so he said "I have all that I need right now, let me trust in God for the future"
Let this be a lesson for all of us. Are we storing up our treasures here on earth, where moths and rust eat away? Or is our treasure somewhere else .. somewhere more eternal?
And here is Farouk, someone who was betrayed, and as a result of that betrayal, lived a life of pain so hard we in the west couldn't quite understand it, saying that he forgives the one who caused him that pain.
Are you able to forgive those people you are angry at? What small petty things cause you to hold grudges towards others? Or perhaps it is something large, maybe you have been hurt in a huge way? But do you have peace in your heart by holding onto that anger?
Let us use this example to make peace with those we are angry with.

Let us use this example to live for what really matters.

And even though Farouk is now going to struggle paying for his younger brother, who was being supported by his uncle for school fees, and we are looking together to try and find a sponsor for him, he still has faith and trust in God that what will be, will be.
Do you have that faith? are you willing to let things go and put your trust in God, instead of finding security in your wealth?

It is a challenge to all of us.

But as I told Farouk, in the end it will be 'oh so worth it!
In the end, it will be those great acts of love, and faith in God that will pay off, and all the wealth in the world will not save your soul.

Friday 21 March 2014

Birthday Cheer!

I forgot to write in my last blog about my birthday, so I thought I would write a brief sum up.
Last Wednesday I turned 27, and got a special birthday treatment.
The day started with Agnes coming over for breakfast. After she finished teaching, I noticed she was running in and out of my bedroom a lot, I suspected she was up to something.
When I tried to go downstairs she wouldn't let me and told me to wait.
So around lunch time I was told to empty my pockets and come downstairs. I crept down the stairs suspiciously and looked into the living room.
No one was there.
I then walked outside to a burst of "Happy Birthday" from the tailoring class, plus Farouk and Agnes. They then sang happy birthday to me while holding signs for me.
While they were doing this I noticed one of the girls was shaking up a bottle of coke rather violently.
I started getting worried.
Once they finished singing happy birthday they all yelled "Baby shower!" and next thing I know the bottle of coke was opened up and poured all over me.
Farouk, rather excitedly, also poured a bucket of water over me. After this strange violation I was told to sit down and cut a muffin with one of the girls. Then I was force fed the muffin.
I'm not quite sure if this is a normal thing, and whether I should laugh or cry, but the girls seemed to be having fun.
Afterwards they all gave me small gifts, like pk chewing gum, or lollipops, or an avocado, and they also gave me hand written letters of love and appreciation for my birthday.
It was all very sweet.
Agnes then cooked me a yummy healthy meal, since I have been eating really badly lately.
That night Agnes and I also went out to a pork joint. Basically a little shady bar with people boozing, where you buy a plate of the most delicious pork and share between the two of you.
All in all it was a typical African birthday .. full of surprises.







 





Church introductions and more diseases.

I will keep this blog post a bit short, as I am not feeling well and really struggling with sickness at the moment.

After many weeks of feeling so weak, shivering, sweating, waking up with headaches and having joint pain, I decided I should go to the good modern hospital here called Alishafa.
I was getting very tired of constantly being sick and not being able to spend a few hours doing activities before I needed to lie down again.
After more blood tests and a good examination from a professional doctor I was diagnosed with Typhoid and Brucellosis. The typhoid is still from last time and wasn't fully treated so I am now on powerful medication (The best type you can get, the doctor said).
The other disease 'Brucellosis' comes from contact with cows carrying the virus. You can get it from drinking milk or eating meat not quite cooked.
This makes sense as I often eat at dimly lit restaurants, where feral cats are running between your legs, and you can't see the food being prepared. As much as I love eating at these places I may have to stop going there. Luckily for me I am getting married in two months to someone who loves to cook ;).
The disease can be tricky to treat and can last for months, even years sometimes. It can develop into a chronic level which may be similarly compared to something like chronic fatigue. Continually tired and weak and feeling sick. If not treated it can also turn into a serious illness that effects bone marrow.
You can say I am glad I got diagnosed fairly early.
It was quite clear this is what has been causing me to feel so weak the last month or so.
The treatment is a bit tricky, so he wanted to get me imported medicines from Germany, instead of the cheap alternatives floating around. A bit expensive, but worth the extra money.
So I will be trying to recover for the next few weeks. Keep me in your prayers as I am really coping it here! I also have a bad cough, chest infection type thing that I need to get medicine for.
Feels like my body just caving in.


Otherwise I got introduced at the church Agnes goes to the other day. It was a fairly large church, and obviously has good leadership structure, and lots of great programs. Was a bit too prosperity gospel for me, but its always nice to visit a new church.
When it was time to introduce me, the pastor got up and stated to the church "We have a young man here who is going to take one of our daughters hand in marriage, can anyone find him?" At this point they played some upbeat African music, while everyone looked around the church 'pretending' to try and find me. I say pretending because everyone knows it is Agnes getting married, and everyone knows she is marrying a white man, and the only white man in the church was me.
Not too hard to find me.
Farouk had come along with me for support (as I am not allowed to come with Agnes or sit next to her .. more cultural things to obey) and so we also joined in with the pretending of trying to find this mystery man.
An elder of the church then came and picked me out of the crowd and hugged me, then grabbed my hand to bring me to the front of the church. He then told me I needed to dance.
So while everyone screamed and laughed at us, Farouk, this elder, and myself all danced to the front of the church.
Not embarrassing at all.
Then they picked Agnes out from the crowd and she also danced to the front of the church with her entourage following her. We then gave a little talk each and then the pastor came to pray over us. It got interesting here because the pastor asked us to kneel down on the ground. I went to kneel down and everyone started laughing at me. They were just laughing because it was funny for them to see a white man kneel, but I got a little confused and stood back up to ask the pastor if I should kneel too.
You see in society here, in many situations of greetings, women kneel down, but men are expected to stand and never do such a thing. So It flashed through my head that perhaps this is why they all laughed at me. But it become apparent these cultural protocols don't apply to this situation I was in, because when I asked the pastor if I should also kneel he looked at me funny and said "Do you have something wrong with your knees?"
I said "no no its ok" and quickly knelt down, while everyone laughed at me some more.

I am such a white boy.

After a long prayer, which I didn't pay any attention too because I was just praying it would hurry up, because my knees actually did start hurting on the concrete, we were finally allowed to 'dance' back to our seats.
Another interesting experience. Sometimes I have to laugh, I used to think I had a really good grip on the cultural stuff here, and in many cases I really do, but getting married to a Ugandan women can make me feel like I am just scratching the surface on the deeply rooted cultural norms here.
Other wise everyone was so excited and happy for us, and we got a lot of people in her church supporting us.

If you read my last blog post you may have read about a man named beeyo who had an extremely infected foot. We have managed to get him treated over the last few weeks (with a few missing days here and there, with him nowhere to be found) and his foot has really healed.
It has been quite funny trying to get him treated, as he often is so off in his own world, that he will walk around in bare feet in the mud, or searching for hidden treasures in a trash heap, while his infected wound is at risk of getting very dirty.
He came around to my house the other day with his walking cane and his mongrel looking dog following him. He came to see me and to thank me, continually repeating "in the name of Jesus, God bless you".
He told me he wanted to give me a plot of his land and put me in the lease for it, and include me in his will.
The interesting thing is the man is actually quite wealthy, despite his appearance. He used to be a town counselor here and was a very respected man in the community until he went mad and the alcohol ravaged his mind.
I tried to tell him it is not necessary and that he should give the plot of land to his family, but he wouldn't have it, telling me "No one wanted to help me, you were the only one who helped me".
Farouk told me later that its quite possible the family were waiting for him to die so they could inherit his wealth.
I really really don't want to be given the land and to be put in the lease, and now Beeyo is trying to convince me to come to his place on Sunday so all his relatives can see, and witness, that he is giving me the plot of land.
Not sure how I am going to get out of this one haha.
Never a dull moment in Uganda.

Otherwise things have been a bit rough here in Uganda. I have a lot of things to work on in regards to my upcoming wedding, and also YSU projects, and this sickness has really knocked me back a bit.
I am also fairly conservative with this sort of stuff, but I feel I have had a lot of spiritual opposition lately. Without going into details, to preserve and protect the identities of certain people, I have been involved in a situation here, where I have aimed to respond in a biblical way, holding onto truth and integrity.
I have tried to take the role of defending the weak and abused and trying to act in a way I could see Jesus responding. I have also approached and corrected what one could say is a 'wolf in sheep's clothing'. Even doing things in a gentle, humble way, with no intention of trying to bring anyone down, and trying to do everything from a position of love, I have still felt some serious opposition.
Try and be a light against the darkness and it will bound to happen soon enough.
I have no shock or surprise over it, or even the sickness for that matter. I fully expect and embrace any suffering here on the mission field. Christ is more then enough for me.
I want to live a life that shows the world that my treasure is in heaven and not on earth. And even though I can fall and fail, as all humans do, I feel so confident and secure in my faith, and in my position before God.
Not because of anything I do, but purely because of what God does for me, and through me.
So please keep me in your prayers during this tough season, I am feeling a bit of the weight on the Calvary road of suffering.
But if it can glorify God and show to those around me, how satisfying He really is, I wouldn't have it any other way.
He truly is more then enough!

Saturday 8 March 2014

Sickness, and encounters with the outcasts.

The last two weeks has seen me getting very very sick. I had malaria a while back and I seemed to get better from it after a few days. But about one week later I woke up with a splitting headache and a very weak feeling. Farouk encouraged me to go check it out at the local medical center, which I had just been at one week before. My nurse Olivia, who knows me well now, wanted to take a big amount of blood from me and check to see if I had any typhoid, as well as malaria. After checking she came back and told me that I did have malaria, and a very strong case of typhoid.

I had my typhoid vaccination about four years ago, but it seems it only lasts about three years, so I was well and truly sick with this potentially lethal disease.

You can get Typhoid from drinking the water here (which I am always careful not to do) but apparently it’s possible to catch it from eating street food (food sold on street stalls) which is something I do regularly.
I ended up having to get a cannula in my hand so they could pump medicine directly into my veins. The first lot they put in made me feel very ooazy, as I told the nurse that I needed to lie down. I ended up fainting slightly onto the sick bed in the medical centre, and had to wait about 15 minutes until my next injection.
Overall I had to have nine injections over the course of three days, including one very painful penicillin shot in my bum. One of the nurses laughed, and said she was happy as she has never got to see a muzungu’s (white mans) bum. The other nurse said she didn’t want to see because she ‘feared’ my skin, it was too white for her. When I told Agnes this it didn’t seem to faze her and she just laughed.
So I spent a few very sick days in bed due to the two life threatening diseases and the strong medication being pumped into me.



I was also told to keep the cannula (a needle thing that stays in your arm that you can attach drips into) in my hand for the night so they could use it to put medicine in the next day. I remember just before bed though it was driving me crazy. It is such a disgusting feeling, having this little tube up one of your veins, it’s like your whole body is crying out that it doesn’t want it in there. And when I would turn my hand slightly the tube would push against the vein and it would send shots of pain up my arm.
Farouk and I ended up working out how to pull it out, and I just bought a new one the next day to go into my other hand.
I was also very watchful to make sure all the needles going into me where fresh out of the packet. Seeing as I am in a little back ally medical clinic in Uganda, I thought it might be worth just checking on that one.

Our house has also been cut off from power for the last two weeks as well. It seems when we moved in our power meter was not working right, and our landlord was not aware of this. We ended up going and paying for a new meter from the power company almost two months ago. But this is Uganda so things take time. We were still connected to power and allowed to stay like that, we just had to show our receipt when the power company came to cut us off.
Anyway they came, but Farouk was out, and our neighbour told them we didn’t have a receipt (even though we told him we do, and if the power people come and Farouk is out, to just get Beatrice to show the receipt).
So we got cut off and we are still trying to hassle the power company to hurry up and put us back on. They keep saying tomorrow, but it has been about five ‘tomorrows’ now.
Hopefully everything will be sorted by Monday.
I have been reading books by candle light though, which has been sort of romantic.
I remember one night when I had the cannula in my arm, and was feeling very sick from the typhoid and malaria, I pulled out the little Gideon bible next to me and read it in the candle light, while I ate my plain rice with my bare hands.
I actually felt really content and happy in that moment, and I had a giggle over it all. Maybe I am getting closer to what Paul talked about when he said he had learnt to be content in Christ in all situations.





Today was an interesting day in little gospel lessons, and the power of grace pulling on the heart strings.
Farouk and I decided to go to bugembee to eat some food. As we were walking to catch a taxi we passed a few men who were walking, one of them screaming in a very angry sounding voice as he preached.
This is something you see often here, street preachers that have taken it to an extreme, where you cannot even understand them because they scream so loud.
I kind of know the man in the area, so as we passed him, and he screamed in our direction, I calmly asked him “Sir why are you so angry?”
He responded by yelling at me and asking what I had to say, and I simply asked again why he was yelling so much. He stated that the bible says to go and preach the gospel, to which I agreed, but then said “but why do you have to yell it at people?”
He kind of laughed and then kept walking, and Farouk and I noticed he was very quiet as he walked away, as perhaps he had gotten embarrassed.

At first I smirked with Farouk, but it wasn't long after that when the stain of smugness was recognized on my own heart. As much I am not a fan of this type of preaching, I really started questioning and wrestling with myself. Was that really the most loving way to interact with that man?
It may sound harmless how I questioned him, but I know within my own heart that my questioning came from a frustration of being kept awake all night by these types of pastors, who scream and yell into their jacked up microphones all night, every Friday night.
I have to be so careful not to hold a sense of arrogance towards these types of people, just because I believe how they are doing something is not the right way of going about it.
And I guess we can all get caught up in not extending love to the people who don’t preach with love.

I couldn’t dwell on this too long though as what came next completely surprised Farouk and I.

If you remember a few weeks ago I wrote in my blog about the local drunken villager coming and asking for prayer after saying he was knocked by a motor bike. If you read the blog you would know that I felt guilty that I hadn’t reached out more to this man.

Well it seems like God wanted to give me another chance.

As we walked past some shops this man yelled out to us, and I went to go shake his hand. He started telling us that he had another injury on his foot and he started to take of his sock as he wanted to show us.
When he took of his sock and showed us the bottom of his foot Farouk and I cringed in horror. This man’s foot had a seriously deep and disturbing wound that took up most of the bottom of his foot. I am talking about a massive hole in his foot that looked like it was rotting away. 

It was gross.

I knew straight away this guy would need medical treatment as he could quite easily loose a leg or get a lethal infection if left alone. I knew the man had no way of paying for it himself, as he was lying in the dirt with a torn pair of pants and no top. He then started pouring his little bottle of bootleg local booze on his wound as he smiled at me and waved his little Gideon bible around to show that he had been reading.

Farouk and I got him up and put him on a boda boda (motor bike taxi) and got it to take him to the local medical center (same one I had been to when sick) as Farouk and I walked the short distance to meet him there.
When Nurse Olivia saw the wound she also cringed and said that it would take serious treatment, the guy basically needs a shot every day for the next ten days. Our friend was clearly drunk, and Farouk explained to him we would promise to pay all his treatment but he has to commit to coming to the medical centre every day to get his shot. Farouk also asked the man to please take a bath before the nurse works on him, as he really stunk.

It was quite a sight as the man sat on the hospital floor shaking his head strangely, with his foot sticking up in the air. He really is an eccentric character, and seeing him with his bottle of booze in one hand and his little bible in the other made me laugh.
We gave him money to take a boda boda back to where he lives, to bath and rest before he would come back in the afternoon, and we promised to buy him shoes so he would stop walking around on the ground with bare feet, and infecting his foot even more.

He was so thankful and kept waving his bible and saying "God bless".

Often a man like that would be so looked down upon here in society, especially by the church, due to his drinking. But I can’t help but think of the verse that says “the first will be last, and the last will be first”. I know many pastors who may be well respected in the community, but have a very strong air of pride around them. I have no doubt that this drunken lowly man would be the first to humble himself before God and recognise his need for a saviour. Sometimes I have a feeling that we will actually be very surprised to find out who will be in the Kingdom.

So for the next few days I will go to the medical center and pay in small amounts, depending on whether he comes for his medicine or not. Please pray that he commits to going, because the wound is very very serious.(Although much later that afternoon I went to the medical center to pay for his evening dose of medication, and they said they had cleaned him up, gave him injections, and wrapped and bandaged his wound, as well as give him the shoes. A little later I met him on the way and of course I find him walking in bare feet with his wound in the dirt. He showed me where they had cleaned up the wound, and I got to see how deep it actually was, to the point of almost seeing bone. I tried to explain to him that he can't be walking around in bare feet, and he nodded and agreed. He actually speaks really good English, but how do you get something through to such a sporadic crazy man)

After we had dropped him at the center, Farouk and I went to town to go eat some food, but Farouk couldn't eat meat because he kept thinking of the guys’ foot. I had no problem though and gobbled down some grizzly, tough meat.
After buying some shoes for the man and dropping them off at the medical center, Farouk and I headed home. 

But it seems God was not done with us for the day.

As we walked past an old empty shell of an unused church, we noticed a drunken street youth, passed out, propped up against the wall, all by himself. 
We called out to him for a bit but he was well and truly out of it, and seemed to be sleeping off his drunkenness. Farouk and I then went to a local shop and went halves and bought a bottle of water. We then walked back to the boy and while trying to snuffle our giggles, quietly placed the cold bottle of water in between his legs in front of him. 

We laughed the whole way home, as we imagined him waking up from his drunken stupor with a throbbing headache in the abandoned church, and finding a full bottle of fresh cold water sitting in front of him. Farouk started joking that maybe he will get freaked out seeing as he was in a church, and that he may think the water was a divine gift, and it might end up making him turn his life around.

Life is always interesting here. I feel so blessed that I am surrounded by daily opportunities to be able to walk like Jesus.
Some days I don’t though. 
Some days I am so caught up in my own life that I walk on by and don’t think about those around me, selfishly consumed with the day’s tasks.
But other days, I have a real sense of God’s love and grace, and feel the weight of it as I encounter people who are needing his love and grace shown to them.
This are the days I love, and I believe these are the days that will matter in the end.

So if you feel like praying for me, I would request you pray for this old man with the wounded foot, and the drunken street boy. Who knows what it just may do.


God bless.