Day 1: Pray for Uganda

             As the jet lag smoothed itself out of our bodies, we spent most of today immersed in the Ugandan culture.  Although today was supposed to be a day of recuperation, I think that it was less draining to travel 40 hours across the world.  I say that to mean that my first experience in Africa was quite intense and fatiguing.  I now know that I know nothing…  nothing about rejection… nothing about abandonment…nothing about adoption… nothing about hope.  Maybe I’m being overdramatic.  Maybe I’m just empty after the long day.  What I do know is that there is still dirt smeared on my bare legs from the hands of the reaching children in Masese.

Some children in Masese

              
             The day began with a wonderful meal and a few orientation talks, some solid advice about how to not be the ugly American.  Immediately after, we drove to the nearby impoverished village of Masese.  We were given a tour by the local pastor, Pastor Joseph.  He walked us around the village and gave us a description of the atmosphere of the local people. 

One reaching hand

                To say the least, it is difficult to conjure kind or hopeful word to describe Masese.  Pastor Joseph’s talk made it sound like the primary darkness over Masese is rampant alcoholism that is fed by the local production of a homemade alcohol.  As we walked the impoverished streets, we were overrun by a mob of empty handed children.  By the time we ended our tour of Masese, at Pastor Joseph’s church, we had accrued a gathering of at least 40 children.  I looked into their faces, and I have never felt as insignificant in my life…  How could I actually impact their lives?  How could I bring hope?  All I could do was squeeze their little hands in mine and bless them in the name of my savior, Jesus.  Knowing Jesus to be who He is, I think our visit was not as insignificant as I first thought.

Offering up prayer for Pastor Joseph

The rest of the day was not quite as emotional as Masese, but it was not far off.  To summarize it, we walked through a market, observed the origin of the White Nile River, met a group of men called “the island boys” (those men alone could fill this blog, but we have lost space),  and had an emotional post-dinner worship and prayer meeting with Jeff and his family.  (Jeff, by the way, is Paul & Pam’s close friend who is our host for the week.)  Honestly, this day was so full of experiences that a short blog post does not cover it.  Just know that Masese is a place that you can pray for.  “The island boys” are men you can pray for.  Jinja is a place you can pray for.  Uganda is a place you can pray for.  Our prayers to our Father in heaven are heard.  They are needed.  After what we watched today, they are needed.

In Christ,

Mark Tatham