HOPE IN MY BACKPACK

Michael Ryan

Dusty, orange footpaths snake in all directions through the jungles of Jinja, Uganda and I’m hiking one of them, bringing hope in my backpack. A goat munches random clumps of grass and a chicken on an errand dashes across the path ahead. A welcome breeze smelling faintly of burning trash and damp soil tousles sugar cane leaves. Families live along these rustic paths in mud and stick homes the size of one room in an average American home.

We approach a neatly manicured home. All around is the peaceful conversation of insects no one ever gets to see. Someone has swept the loose dirt away from the house. A garden surrounds us, artistic and thoughtful, yet chaotic at the same time; each bloom promises a different fruit. The diligent mother of this haven sits on a straw mat before the doorway peeling roots for tonight’s dinner.

She looks up at our approach, “Have you come to see me?” she sings in her native tongue, an ivory smile against mahogany skin. Hastily, she disappears into her house and returns with straw mats and a stool. “Have you come to see me?” she asks again, as she spreads the mats and stool out under the shade of a jackfruit tree. This is an invitation for us to sit and visit a while.

Greetings are exchanged and I am introduced. I am American so I am expected to take my seat on the stool. The small talk begins and she wants more than an exchange of names. “Are you a Mama?”  The ladies ask this question frequently. I find it awkward at first, but soon it becomes quite endearing and I find myself honored to answer, “Yes!”  She wants to know about my family, including the name of my husband, the names and ages of my children, and how I spend my days with them. She nods and smiles her approval when I tell her we “teach them at home.”

You see, this information is important because the ladies of Jinja are very domestic, and it was on these grounds where I was able to meet many of them. Being able to share something in common with them gave me permission to share another, more important story.

Our team brought storying bandanas with us to give away to anyone who would let us tell the story. The bandana has 12 symbols that help the storyteller to remember the story of Creation to Christ from Genesis to Revelation. I told the story to each “Maama” beginning with the Most High God, creation, the garden, and the fall of man. We told about the Ten Commandments and sacrifices and how they could never help mankind to be perfect and holy enough to walk with God as we were designed. Then we told how the Most High God loved people so much that He sent His sinless Son to come and show us the way back to a relationship with Him.

“Do you want Jesus to show you the way back to God?” we asked. A surprising number of families said yes. We talked with them to be sure they had understood the question and then we prayed with them.

The Ugandan people I met were hospitable and warm. Their eyes twinkled and their faces smiled easily. Yet sometimes, during the telling of the story, I sensed shame that was painful for me to watch. I wanted to take it away, but that’s not for me to do. But, I can offer hope. They are thirsty for hope, so we gave them Jesus.

That story was related by Kym Satterwhite who recently returned from a short term missions trip to Uganda. She will happily tell you more stories if you ask.

Sunday we will continue the series Learning to Live in a New Country, which has nothing to do with geography or missions trips, but with learning to live by the values of the kingdom of God. The message title is Christ Centered Determination from Colossians 3:1-4.