uganda, day 10

breakfast and then down to the chapel for worship in song, scripture readings, a message, and encouragements from whomever wishes to speak.

we had thought that a few days prior we would be offering an encouragement to the kids, so i had something prepared in my other notebook. at the last minute, i’d torn it out and taken it with me to church. i’m glad i did, for my dear husband, when he moved to the front of the room to speak into the children’s hearts, he called me up with him.

“trace and i don’t have any kids at home,” jon said, “but when we leave here, we will have 67 children.” the kids and teachers smiled and applauded. jon got choked up. i almost lost it.

i opened my notes and informed the children that jon and i had written a blessing for them. as headmaster richard translated, i read,

grace, mercy and peace
from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord

we want to say to you that wherever you are that God is with you
we want to say to you that whatever you do the Father will give you power and strength
we want to say to you that whoever you befriend to preach the gospel

in the morning when your eyes open praise His holy name
in the evening when your head is set to rest give all the glory to God
in all that you do and through the day love the Lord your God

and we want to say to you that our Father in heaven knows you. he knows your name. and he loves with a love that has no end.

grace be with you.

it really was all i could do not to cry. but i made it!!

after services, any many more hugs and kisses and lovin’s, the kids went back up to the change their clothes and prepare to leave. two vans had arrived and we still awaited a third.

we went up to send them off with embraces and smiles and songs. our hearts were torn in two on the inside, but on the outside we tried our best to conceal it. hugging and singing and holding hands, we waited for everything to be loaded and the kids to be piled into the vans, like sardines in a can. a sweltering can.

i held little nancy’s hand and many many other’s. as vicky reached for my hand, i saw tears forming in her eyes. this young lady, who at the beginning of our time at the village would barely speak or even look at us, was so sad to leave that she went against everything she was taught to survive and teared up. oh how sweet and fragrant those tears! for they not only meant sadness to leave the village, and perhaps sadness to leave new friends, but also openness, healing, passion, feeling, a part of her coming back to life after so much horror and fright from the LRA. those tears meant a new beginning, a new kind of life where she can have thoughts and feelings of her own and have that be ok.

it was time for them to go and we watched the vans leave the village carrying with them our hearts with these children. “take care of them, Father. they are precious.”

once the vans were out of sight, i turned to debbie and we hugged. some tears came out, and i almost broke down. but i didn’t. it was all i could do to maintain my composure.

but i knew God was with them. they were even singing praises to him, squished together in the van… they just sang! a few days prior during one of their morning prayer times, a few of us on our team that were present got to say a few words to the kids. i told them that the ‘salvation bracelets’ we made together weren’t just for them to remember their journey in Christ, but was also for them to share with others. that they could use them to tell others about how to find Jesus Christ and about how he has saved them and pours his love out to them and that anyone could have this saving and loving.

and so it wasn’t just children in that van heading out for three weeks to wherever home can possibly be for an orphan, but that they were also disciples of Jesus and they were being sent to spread the good news of the gospel to all who has ears to hear. how precious are their feet who carry such good news!

God speed, sweet children. my prayers pour over you!