Jungle walks, first time birthdays and reaching out.

Things are running normal here as usual (as normal as life can run here, normal being a life that is never dull) Projects are running, girls are learning tailoring, boys are being mentored, and preparation for programs and ways to reach out to more youth are underway. Of course there are always challenges, there are always anxieties, there are always heartaches and there are always deep concerns for the people of Uganda. Throw some thunder storms in (literal ones), fellowship with beautiful people, and touches of God in the profound and the everyday, and you have the ingredients for what could class as a standard week here.

Last week I went for a bit of an adventure with Farouk. We went for a walk through Mabira forest.
The forest rests in between Jinja and Kampala, and is a lasting remnant of what Uganda may have looked like before colonization and industrialization. Beautiful thick forests winding up hills and down into valleys, while streams and water falls make their way down into Lake Victoria.
Luckily I was able to sneak into the park under the 'foreign resident' price, instead of the more expensive tourist price. Although you have to show proof of your residence, which I was not aware of, I managed to get by with showing my wedding ring and a picture of Agnes and I on our wedding day on my phone (being married to a Ugandan had the same pull as showing a resident visa)

We had a lovely time walking through the thick forest with our guide. This was something that refreshed my soul. Having the anxieties of ministry pile up on you demands for an escape into refreshment and joy.
Ultimately this joy for me, rests in God. But I can taste it through His glory in creation (as well as many other ways).
This is vitally important for the human soul, why do famous passages found in the Psalms talk about God restoring us in "green pastures" and "by still waters".
Charles Spurgeon summed the benefits to the soul in creation well:

To sit long in one posture, pouring over a book, or driving a quill, is in itself a taxing of nature; but add to this a badly ventilated chamber, a body which has long been without muscular exercise, and a heart burdened with many cares, and we have all the elements for preparing a seething cauldron of despair, especially in the dim months of fog … Nature outside his window is calling him to health and beckoning him to joy. He who forgets the humming of the bees among the heather, the cooing of the wood-pigeons in the forest, the song of the birds in the woods, the rippling of rills among the rushes, and the sighing of the wind among the pines, needs not wonder if his heart forgets to sing and his soul grows heavy.

As we were walking along the jungle tracks, we stumbled across numerous campsites, freshly abandoned. These campsites were always found in a clearing next to a very large tree. Our guide begun to explain to us how local people come into the forest to worship these specific trees, often doing spiritual ceremonies for days on end, in a trance like state, as they give sacrifices to the tree. Often their spirituality is mixed with a deep grinding fear on the soul of the ancestors and spirits who will come after them, if they don't appease them with nature worship.
I couldn't help but relate this to a C.S Lewis quote I stumbled upon a few days ago:

By emptying Nature of divinity - or, let us say, of divinities - you may fill her with Deity, for she is now the bearer of messages. There is a sense in which Nature-worship silences her - as if a child were so impressed with the postman's uniform that he omitted to take in the letters.

There is a deep notion in which ending the praise and the joy on creation, causes you to miss out on the messages, and the finger prints, of the creator. I wonder if this deep bondage to fear of the spirits would be broken, if instead of the worship of nature, it was replaced with an experience of a sovereign and loving God. 
Well, truthfully, I should say that I don't wonder ... I know. 
I have experienced this transformation. I have seen it among my fellow brothers in the faith here in Africa. Christianity has not taken away from the African's spiritual identity here in Uganda, if anything, it has completed and fulfilled it, in its fullest sense.
The replacing of divinities in nature with the finger prints and messages of Deity doesn't just add a thankfulness and gratitude to the experience of Nature. It rolls off into worship for a grand mind that created such a complex and beautiful structure in biodiversity.
Again C.S Lewis puts this well when explaining finding God in pleasure (in which can be applied to the joys found in nature):

I have tried since to make every pleasure into a channel of adoration. I don’t mean simply by giving thanks for it. One must of course give thanks, but I meant something different . . . Gratitude exclaims, very properly, “How good of God to give me this.” Adoration says, “What must be the quality of that Being whose far-off and momentary coruscation's are like this!” One’s mind runs back up the sunbeam to the sun. . . . If this is Hedonism, it is also a somewhat arduous discipline. But it is worth some labor.

The arduous discipline is worth the labor indeed.
Let me end with my ramblings and post some photos the forest.

Today (the 17th) was also a very special day as Mesach (Farouk and Beatrice's son) turned one. Farouk decided that beginning the tradition of birthdays was a must for his family (as it is not something commonly done in Uganda).
So a big meal of chicken was cooked up and served to some close friends who joined Mesach on his big day.
A cake was also provided (with rock hard icing) and a happy birthday was sung. Although when I started the quite normal, and what I thought was well known, hip hip hooray, everybody just looked at me blankly like I had lost my mind. I guess Ugandans don't include that part in the song.

Last Sunday was also a very book of acts like Sunday. Filing into church as normal, and singing praise while trying to wince my way through the experience of the very loud and distorted speakers, my heart was far away and distant. I had begun the day with wearies and burdens, and the selfishness, or self pity, of my troubles was distracting my mind.
Praise God that he smashed all of that away with a touching service. Nothing in the sermon or the worship itself was the catalyst for this experience. But instead it was two interruptions that caused the service to stop, and the church to be flexible in putting aside it's schedule, so they could flow with what God had put in front of us.
The first interruption was a man, who bursting with joy, needed to come up the front and speak on the microphone. He then proceeded to explain he was a Muslim, but had found truth in Christ. He continued to explain his desire to turn to God and be washed with a grace soaked gospel.
The man was prayed for as he gave testimony up the front. Already this testimony jolted my heart back into attention on Gods goodness. Not long after, as we were singing songs, a very old, sick and crippled woman was brought into the church by her caring sister. The woman was layed on the floor of the church stage on a mat. Singing was silenced and the pastor came forward to inquire about the woman.
She was a local woman who had been sick for the last few months. No doctor could find out what was wrong with her, and some suspected she was poisoned.
As it became apparent that she may well be close to death, the whole church stopped what it was doing, and came around this woman to show her love.
Agnes and I went up the front with the pastor, and many others, to lay hands on her and pray. We all spent a good amount of time, praying for her and supporting her.
Collections were taken up for her to help in any treatment, and a commitment to visit her house and continue prayer and support was made.
It is experiences like this that can sharpen a drifting mind back onto God, and onto fellowship with the body.
How beautiful it is when the church is able to be flexible with time schedules and routine, and allow for suffering people to be cared for, and joyful people to give testimony.
Agnes and I left the church service with many things on our mind, not all of them though leaving us with a feeling of joy. Some things, like the suffering of the poor, and why a woman like her wasn't healed, landed on our mind. And of course we struggle with these questions, but they are able to be dealt with, within the context of a hope filled gospel, and the promise of the ending of evil and suffering in the age to come.

Lastly, as I have mentioned in a previous post, we have been looking for ways to reach our neighbors.
We have found ourselves here, both in the context of YSU and our personal lives, in the position of being involved in the lives of a few different Muslim families.
As many may be aware, right now in the world a global genocide against Christians is raging. Most of the killings and persecutions are happening in Muslim countries, where an Islamic world view is leading to hatred for the 'infidel'. That may not be politically correct to state, and there are other factors of political power involved, but it is true none the less.
As Christians we are challenged in how to respond to this. I know my church in Australia 'One Hope' had a day of fasting and prayer last Tuesday for the persecuted Christians in Iraq. I joined them in this day of fasting and prayer last Tuesday, and I was struck with a sense of "what is my part to play" especially in my response to Muslims.
How do Christians respond to Muslims, when we see so many of our brothers and sisters in the faith being killed by extremists.
We reach out with love and truth. We reach out with the Gospel of Grace.
This has challenged me in how I interact with my poor neighbors, especially since we have had a number of misunderstandings which has caused them to act very cold towards us.
Sometimes this does not mean, barging in with a Gospel presentation, but building relationships. As I once heard a quote say: Often the Gospel moves at the speed of friendships.
Agnes and I did reach out with little steps. We managed to buy them some basic needs and food items, and sit down in our neighbors house as we talked about any misunderstandings that had happened in the past. We explained to them that we knew they were Muslims, but we felt compelled to show them love driven by our Christian faith (so as the glory would not land on 'us' being good people, but on 'Jesus' being a good God).
Our neighbors were over joyed that we would reach out to them, and insisted that we talk with them and visit them whenever we want. We also asked them for anything they may want prayer for (often this is not a stumbling block for Muslims here, and quite often they are open to Christians asking if they could pray for them)
Was it a full explanation of the Christian faith. Not at all.
Should Agnes and I feel like we have now done our job and there is no more to do. Not even close.
Should we only be compelled to do good things for Muslims because we expect them to convert to Christianity. Certainly not.
We reach out in love towards our 'neighbors' because we believe they are created in the image of God, regardless if they are open to our message or not. And so we do not place expectations on them when we show practical help.
But we are called to show where our joy and grace comes from. And to be faithful in pointing towards our King.
It was a step forward in faith, and I believe God opens doors the more we take steps.
How can you reach out to your Muslim neighbors in love and truth?

Let me end this blog post by giving you some pictures of our tailoring girls, and where they are working from.