We were the first to board the bus. My teammate Nita and I were traveling to Kampala so I could pick up my best friend and Nita could pick up her car. I love when I have the option to sit at the front of the bus — the seats are more spacious (great for someone with motion sickness) and I find it a much less painful journey if I cannot see all the people coming and going from the bus (not sure why I feel that way). Nita took the very first seat, which is completely by itself and I took a seat behind. The late morning sun blazed through the window, so I opted for the aisle seat.
As our hour wait marched on, God spoke to my heart, saying, “Mary, I want you to give up your seat.” I knew that the loving thing to do would be to bake in the sun and allow someone else with a more comfortable seat.
The bus continued to fill, but no one made their way to my seat. A woman who worked for the bus company asked me if the seat next to me was available. Then another worker escorted a young girl to the front of the bus. I slipped into the seat in the sun while the man helped the girl get situated on the ground. As the seat next to me became vacant once more, I began to realize God was not asking me to give up my comfortable seat, rather my seat all together. I tapped the girl on the shoulder and asked if she wanted a seat. She graciously and gratefully accepted. She slipped into my seat and I made my way to the ground.
A few moments later, I turned around to see what was happening behind me. As I did, the man that helped the girl caught me on the ground. A shock came over his face as he dashed off the bus. I’m not sure where he went or even if it had anything to do with me, but I could tell by his face he thought it was crazy to see the white girl instead of the teenager he left. Maybe a minute later, the conductor comes up behind me and says, “Excuse me madam, do you want to sit there?”
Unsure exactly how to respond (I don’t want to sit on the ground of a bus for six hours, but I want to be obedient to what God asks of me) I say, “Yes, it is very okay.” The man gives me a strange look and the girl almost jumped out of her seat, “I let her have my seat. I’m okay here.” There was nothing else he could do, so he walked away. I smiled at the girl and she seemed so relieved that no drama occurred. Eventually someone came to occupy the vacant seat.
I spent the entire journey (about 140 miles) on the ground of the bus.
I share this story not as a way to generate pity or to say, “look how great I am in suffering for Christ!” Because I would argue my everyday life in Moroto is much harder than a bus trip without a seat, and I am nowhere near great by myself — the attention should never be on me, only my Savior. I share this story in order to share the things I learned. I had several hours on the floor of that bus to hear many lessons from God on obedience. Here are a few of the things He taught me:
1– Sometimes God will ask us to do something and we will never know why. I don’t know why God asked me to give up my seat. I don’t know if he used it to speak to the heart of the girl or the others on the bus, maybe both? What matters is that I knew what God asked of me.
2— God asks us to do uncomfortable things. I often hear stories of people who God asks to give up their comforts to someone else, and then get some kind of upgrade. Example if it happened to me in my bus experience: I give up my seat so the girl can have it, and some private car comes along and offers me a ride to Kampala. One thing to always remember is that is not the norm, although those are the stories we want to hear. God isn’t about making our earthly lives comfortable, but making His name known — which often calls us to discomfort. The moment we anticipate God to make us comfortable as we serve Him, we make it about us, which is the wrong attitude.
3 — My eyes must be on Jesus, not on what is around me. One thing that is really hard for me is to be a spectacle, which makes me laugh being a foreigner in Moroto. Everything I do is watched. I have days (more than just a few) where all I want to do is get from point A to point B with without being noticed, called out, or yelled at. The only way this can be accomplished is by not leaving my house. This day on the bus I was a spectacle! And for (probably) the first time, I didn’t care. How freeing that was! It didn’t matter that I stood out for doing something most wouldn’t. I was obeying Jesus. His opinions, His thoughts on what is right, His plans are the only ones that matter. I want to adopt this mindset in every day life and this was a good opportunity to begin shifting my thinking.
The bus always comes with many stories. Some cute and funny, several difficult— but this is one that will stick with me.
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