I have been waiting to post this one for a while...written whilst i was in the UK last month.
I have been in the UK for almost a month now and after lots and lots of questions about my time in Uganda and why I have decided to move out there I’m starting to understand a little more about why I’m doing what I’m doing.
The last 7 months of my life have been the best so far. My mind literally blows at how incredible my father is and how much he wants to bless me. When I moved out to Uganda last October I never expected to fall in love so quickly. Yet as I write this in hindsight it feels almost obvious that I would come away from my 7 months feeling like my heart has been wrecked for the broken and the unlovable, after all, they are my Daddies favourites. Why wouldn’t I, when I'm aligning my heart beat with his, fall completely and ridiculously head over heals?! It makes perfect sense.
And at the same time as I say my final goodbyes, and get ready to up and move again I 100% re-realise that I would NEVER be doing this if it wasn’t for Jesus. The life I live has a cost, even though the paragraph above says otherwise I would be lying if I didn’t say this new love I have found hurts. Not only because of what I'm exposed to in the slums doing the work I do, but because of what I have to leave behind. Some would say that feeling like you have two homes makes you pretty lucky, and usually I would agree…but in the days leading up to the flight half way across the world this whole “two homes” thing seems pretty unfair.
When you tell God you want to give up your heart and lay down your life he takes it, and that literally looks like you giving up your heart and laying down your life. It’s so easy to say the words but have nothing to show for them. For me I'm learning that Jesus is the only one I would give up my family for. Right now I'm trying to live what it looks like to put Jesus’ heart above my own. My heart that misses friends and family like crazy and hurts like hell when the darkness of the slums comes too close. The heart that gets broken far too often by the harshness of poverty and that feels bruised by goodbyes.
When Jesus told us to come and follow him he didn’t say it would be easy, he set the example by carrying his own cross up the mountain. So here I am, climbing the mountain, enjoying the view but at the same time very aware of the narrow path I have chosen to walk. Living in Uganda is a beautiful sacrifice, one that has brought me to life at the same time as opening my eyes to the cost of truly following Jesus. All I can say is that I'm thankful. I’m thankful Jesus is willing to climb the mountain with me, to give me a glimpse of the journey he took, and to love my heart the mess that it is. And that’s why the cost is all worth it. Because I'm not alone.
