The Struggle

Life is a fact. We have life in our bones. We breath. Our hearts continue to beat. We are able to think and problem solve. We witness these things simply by existing. Along with the mechanical part of life, we also witness the emotions. We find joy in friendships. We find love amongst each other. We suffer. We cry. We laugh. We persevere. All these things mix together to produce life.

So many times, the lies of this world feed into our heads, which either cause us to fight or give up all hope. I cannot list the amount of times people hear I am only 22, and proceed to point their finger at me. They say I have absolutely no qualifications, and that I am just trying to make myself look good by working for “those poor kids of Uganda.” Apart of me always listens to the accusations. They are right. I am young, and plenty more people have proper qualifications. However, I am not here to make myself look better than anyone else. I constantly fight the lies of the world. Government officials will show up out of nowhere at the house, where they start questioning my administration background. They hear my age, and automatically start yelling at me. It is a constant battle. It is one I sometimes wish I would let go of my stubborn ways, and just go home.

Moments in life make us feel like giving up. Sorrow crushes down on us, as we endure the pain that exists in this world. As Christians, we fight a world so different than how we are suppose to live. This brings opposition around every corner. Most battles break the heart into a thousand pieces. Sometimes, the best option looks like giving up. That is what ministering in Uganda feels like on a common day. My heart breaks on a regular basis. I am crushed as I watch families I pour so much into be filled with so much anger, they begin to question their faith. What is the point of moving forward? I cry every time I witness one of our children struggle with issues of their past. As they seek love from the wrong places. As they commit crimes that got them in such trouble before their life at Redeemer House. The issues I cannot relate to, even in the slightest. My heart shatters into a million pieces, and I question if I am truly following the call God placed on my life. Baring the burdens of my Ugandan friends crushes me. They share their struggles with poverty, violence, and death. Most do not wish I snap my fingers and make it better. They simply are grateful for a listening ear, but the weight of their struggles are so painful I begin to let go.

Life on this earth brings pain and sorrow. But just for a moment. I think of Paul and Silas in the Philippian jail. They were stripped of all dignity. They were beaten for their faith, and thrown in prison. Yet they sang praises to God. Later, God brought His grace to a new brother in Christ. The pain they endured brought glory to God. Our pain is for a moment. Christ is forever. There will come a day where there is no more pain and no more tears. On that day, we will witness the full glory of God. We will see His goodness, and live in His joy for the rest of eternity. That is the hope which pushes me forward. Even as I feel my heart ripped out of my chest, I will continue to pour love and hope into those around me. I want all those I have met on this earth to be with me, as we soak in the grace of my Savior. I never want to give up hope in people just because they break my heart. I want them to find the same hope I found, and I will earnestly pull them along.

My Jesus is coming back. In that promise, I will keep marching forward. No matter the heart break that comes my way; no matter what this life tries to throw at me, I cling to that promise.