Wednesday, January 16, 2019

little did I know


I am an easy person to surprise. This bodes well for people who want to throw me surprise parties, take me on a surprise date, or give me a surprise gift—I almost never see it coming and it takes very little effort on their part to keep it a secret. It does not bode well for people who accidentally startle me in a quiet place or for me when I need to use the bathroom when that happens. I live unsuspiciously. 

Christian does not appreciate surprises. Even when people are planning something especially for him, and that we know he will like, he would rather know ahead of time than be surprised by it. That sounds dull to me, but whatever. He can have his way. (Now that I think about it, it is ironic that he is the one who didn’t want to find out if we are having a boy or a girl. Apparently that is one surprise with which he is okay.)

I, on the other hand, enjoy the anticipation of not knowing. When I know something is coming but I don’t know what, my mind careens with possibilities, some of which are realistic and some totally imaginative. Despite my good imagination, there are so many surprises I did not see coming. 

Marrying my Dutch neighbor in Uganda, for instance. 

Living in Africa for more than a year. 

Finding cookie dough ice cream in my freezer. (Wonderful surprises don’t always have to be big.)

There are so many times I can look back on the last days, or months, or years, and think to myself, “Little did I know…” 

While many surprises I can attribute to a person, or people, who intentionally planned something and kept it a secret, the best surprises I can attribute only to God, who both sees the big picture and gave me a tiny brain that does not see the big picture. This lack of foresight can be frustrating at times, but oh, what joy to look in hindsight at how He orchestrates our lives and our circumstances in ways I do not anticipate! This is one such story…

Five years ago, I was in Uganda for the first time. It was new and unfamiliar and scary and exciting and confusing, a sometimes-overwhelming barrage of emotions and challenges.

One October afternoon, I decided to walk from Noah’s Ark to Mukono to do some shopping. On the way I met a boy, who introduced me to more children, who introduced me to two lame men living in a small room just off the roadside. We laughed, played, ate candy, took pictures, and then I left. I expected to stop by once or twice more before leaving Uganda, but because of geography and communication that is where the relationship would end. Little did I now that that was only the beginning. (For a full story about that day, you can read my post from five years ago: "it is very far".)

Our "family photo" from that day in 2013.
Margaret (you will read about her further on) is on the far right.

Four years ago, six months after I had moved to Uganda, the youth pastor asked me to lead a group of five teenage girls in a Bible study. Once a week these 14-year-olds came to my house for tea and a discussion of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. We had our fun moments, but for the most part it was like pulling teeth to get them to talk about God. 

Three years ago, Christian and I had been dating for a few months and there was a new youth pastor at Noah’s Ark. He asked if we could co-lead a teenage Bible study on spiritual discipline, so we were assigned a group of six boys and girls and given a new curriculum. After a few months, the Bible studies ended and Life Groups were born. The idea was for adults to start discipleship groups based on a particular interest, such as dance, drama, music or media, and use the interest as a way of drawing teenagers into this new kind of Bible study. Christian and I started a service group for teenagers who wanted to actively serve God in different ways as we studied Biblical examples of service and servanthood. Within weeks we had twelve faithful students who came for Bible studies and to plan and carry out service projects within the compound. We made encouragement cards for students with upcoming tests, helped feed babies in the children’s home, washed clothes for students who were sick, and cleaned the church for special occasions. Little did I know that through this group, I would learn more about service than I was teaching. 

Two years ago, I learned the cultural art of making beads out of paper. (To learn it yourself, check out my post: "how to make beads out of paper") That was around the same time our Good Samaritans (the self-chosen name of our service group) expressed an interest in serving people in the community, not only within our compound. We started with the grandfather of one of the students from school. He was very old and very sick. Most times we went to visit, he could not get out of bed, so we crammed ourselves into his tiny brick house to serve him food and pray for him. 

Being the hands and feet of Jesus has an addictive quality to it, and it wasn’t long before the Good Samaritans asked if there was anyone else in the community we could serve. I asked a social worker for any suggestions, and he immediately started telling me about two lame brothers who lived near the grandfather we were already visiting—the same lame brothers I had met three years before. What a fun way to come full circle! 


the brothers: Buule Geoffrey and Mukasa Kaye 

Our group paid them a visit to get to know them and assess their needs. The conclusion: we would make paper bead necklaces, sell them as a fundraiser, and use the money to buy wheelchairs for the brothers so they could go to church (a desire they themselves expressed). From that point onward, every Tuesday evening was spent hunched over our beading supplies, tediously rolling strips of paper and deciding whom to ask for advice on buying a wheelchair. Little did I know how many Tuesdays it would take before we saw any fruit from our efforts.



After one-and-a-half years of beading, we finally had necklaces to sell. I posted them on Facebook a few hours before Christian and I left for our vacation in America, and by the time we set foot on Washington soil, all twelve had been sold. What a blessing! We were so excited to bring the money back to the Good Samaritans and show them the resources we now had to use for the brothers. 

Little did we know that in the time it took us to do the fundraiser, another organization had already given wheelchairs to the brothers. 

But that did not stop us in the least. Our teenagers immediately jumped in with new ways we could use the money to serve them. During one Tuesday evening in September, our conversation went something like this: 

Shannon: Their floor is only dirt and it is hard to clean, especially for lame people. Let’s get them something to cover their floor. 

Me: Like a big grass mat? 

Timothy: No, they have the plastic ones that are even easier to clean. That would be better. 

Me: So one of the plastic woven ones? 

Job: No, they also sell that flooring material and we can just measure and buy the right size so we can cover the whole floor, not just part of it. That would be best. 

Christian: But the floor is also uneven. Will that kind of material lay well on their floor or will it only cause more problems? 

Shannon: If the floor is uneven, first we should make it flat. Then the material will lay properly. 

Samuel: A mat is not enough. If we really want to help, what we should do is put in a concrete floor. That way it is flat and easy to clean. 

Me: Does anyone know what it would cost to put in a concrete floor? 

Samuel: Not so much. You only have to pay for labor and supplies. 

Deng: A bag of cement costs about 30,000 shillings. 

Christian: How many bags would we need for their floor? 

Deng: Maybe four? 

Me: And what else would we need to buy? 

Deng: Sand and aggregate. Those you can buy by the truckload. 

Me: How much would labor cost? Does anyone have any idea? 

Timothy: I can ask Uncle Asaf tomorrow. He would know. 

Me: I think it is a great idea, you guys, but we do need to consider all the angles. We do have 900,000 shillings, but this can end up costing a lot and before we move forward we need to make sure we know we can cover all of it. 

Shannon: But we don’t need to pay for labor. Just ask Uncle Erias if the DIT (vocational) students can do it for practical experience. Then the work is free. 

Me: Do you think they would do that? 

Deng: I can ask him tomorrow. He might let us so we can practice. 

Christian: Okay. Deng, you are going to ask Uncle Erias if you and the other DIT students can use it as practice. Timothy, you find out how much the materials will cost and get back to us next week. 

Me: But there is still a big issue—while we are having the floor done, where are the brothers going to stay? They can’t stay in their house. If we give them a place to stay at Noah’s Ark then we are responsible for feeding them and making sure they have everything they need for that time. We would need to pay for a place for them to stay, and that would come out of our budget. 

Shannon: They can stay with Mama Meg. She is the mother of one of the students who lives next to them. 

Me: Shannon, it is a big thing to ask someone to let two lame adults live with them for a week. Even though she helps them a lot, this is different. 

Shannon: I will ask Margaret tomorrow and she can ask her mom. I know she will say yes. 

Christian and I were both skeptical of the whole idea. We knew a concrete floor would be a wonderful thing for the brothers, but it seemed like such a big undertaking for a group of twelve teenagers and two foreigners who know nothing of building and are still learning subtleties of the culture. For the next three weeks, we posed question after question in hopes that through finding the answers our group would discover on their own that this project was simply too big and we needed to come up with something smaller. Little did we know that every week our members would come back with positive answers to all of our questions, to the point that there was no reason not to put in the floor. 

The cost of materials was well within our budget. 
The DIT students could do the work for free because it gave them hands-on experience. 
The instructors would make sure they had all the tools they needed. 
The brothers could stay in Mama Meg’s house while the work was being done. 
The teachers would order all the supplies, so we only had to reimburse them instead of finding the materials and bargaining ourselves.  

The big ideas did not stop with our students. When Christian and I met with the head of the vocational department at the school to make sure everything was in order, he asked, “If we are already doing the floor, why not plaster the walls as well? If you are ever planning on doing that it is better to do it now while they are shifted out and the room is empty. Plus, in the end you will save money on materials because we can order everything at once.” He gave us a proposed budget for putting in a concrete floor and plastering the walls and it still fell within our budget. What was happening? 

In October, almost two years after we started our paper bead project, I piled into a car with five Noah’s Ark students, two vocational instructors, and a wheelbarrow, and we set off for the brothers’ house to make this thing happen. (I came with a camera to document the whole thing. Don’t worry, they were not desperate enough to need me to build anything.) They worked for almost eight hours that day and finished just a fraction of the work. Between days of working, days of letting the floor dry, and days off when the students were in exams, the floor and walls took more than two weeks to complete. 


digging up the dirt floor




covering the exposed brick with plaster

One day at school, I found Margaret and wanted to express my appreciation (and apologies) for her family hosting the brothers so much longer than we had anticipated. 

“Have you seen the house this week?” she asked me. “The floor is finished and they are almost done with the walls. It looks really good!” 

“No I haven’t seen it yet, but I want go tomorrow,” I said. “And Margaret… thank you. Thank you so much.” 

“For what?” she asked, and I could tell by the look on her face that it was a genuine question. 

Do you know any 14-year-olds who would accommodate two lame men in her family’s very small house for almost three weeks as a favor… and not expect even a word of thanks for it? Would you accommodate two lame men in your house for three weeks as a favor without expecting thanks? It doesn’t take an easily-surprise-able person to be surprised by her reaction. 

We started the Good Samaritans as a practical way of teaching teenagers what it means to be the hands and feet of Jesus, but through people like Margaret and her family I have learned so much more about doing that with a humble and willing heart. Through our teenagers I have learned what it means to dream big and not let my tiny brain limit what God can do through me or anyone else. I have been surprised by people and I have been surprised by God, and I have loved seeing these surprises play out in the last several months. 

Five years ago when I met the brothers, little did I know all God had in store for us. 


cleaning the new floor and walls

Mama Meg at her fruit stall

some of our Good Samaritans on one of our visits to the brothers

That being said, little do I know of all God still has ahead for the brothers and the Good Samaritans! This progress was good motivation for our group because in three months’ time we have made another dozen necklaces to sell so we can continue serving the brothers in whatever way God makes possible in the coming year. A few ideas include installing a proper window in their room (right now they have sheet metal covering a square hole in the wall), repairing the wheelchairs (only one is usable at the moment), and buying basic supplies like food and clothes since they are mostly unable to work and generate an income on their own. If you are interested in supporting the brothers by buying a necklace, please contact me and I will send you photos of the ones we have to offer and we can figure out the best way to pay and get the necklace to you. Don’t worry about which continent you are on—we will find a way to make it work!

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