Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be the glory.

Ephesians 3:20

This verse was given to us by the Spiritual Leader of our trip, Sandi,  shortly after arriving in Uganda. She asked us to really pray about it and see if we could apply it to our own experience…

  The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m… way too excited to sleep. While my true mission in coming to Africa was to train Ugandan teachers in English language reading strategies, this was the day I’d been looking forward to more than any other of this 2 week journey. Today was the day a few of us would travel to the northern edge of Kampala to meet our sponsored children. Our family had been writing and praying for 9-year-old, Ronald, for almost a year now. Sponsorship cards were made available at our church and many of us took advantage of the opportunity to make a difference in the life of a child. I was anxious to see first hand if this whole idea of give $30 a month and give a child on the opposite side of the world a hope for the future was all that we hoped it was. I was well prepared with a backpack full of school supplies and letters from my sons to present to Ronald upon my arrival. In addition, I also had gifts and letters entrusted to me for 4 other children who were being sponsored by friends from church.  

I had recently learned that the town of Deo that we would be traveling to had once been used for mass graves during Idi Amin’s regime. Africa Renewal Ministries (ARM) and Word of Life Church had partnered together to bring life to an area previously known for death. It is their belief that with guidance and support, Deo Christian School can rise above the tragic history of the area and become a place where children receive a chance at a better life.

       So here I sit on the bathroom floor watching the sun come up and journaling my thoughts. I didn’t want to wake my roommate, so it was that or try to lie still in bed underneath my mosquito net for another hour. I had stuffed the paper with the verse on it in my journal the night before. Now as I came across it, I  wondered how it might apply to my soon-to-be experience. If God would make a way for me to see all 5 of these children, take pictures with each of them, and be able to confidently report back that we really are making a difference in these kid’s lives – what more could I ask for?  Yet the verse says, “more than we ask or imagine”.  So according to God, not only will my prayer be answered, but additional blessings (that I can’t even imagine) will also be occurring. 

 I’ve gotten good at trusting God (I mean after all I’m praying on the bathroom floor… at 5 a.m… in AFRICA!).  But still, if God could just pull off my initial request that would be amazing enough for me.

    The moment had finally arrived and I joined 4 other hopefuls from our missions team in a jeep traveling to Kampala to visit Deo Christian School. Between the 5 of us we were expecting to see 12 children who had no idea that we were coming. After an hour drive in the rain we pull into the school parking lot/play yard/nothing but dirt.

    As I open the door to get out, there is a small boy in a red striped shirt standing before me. I remember thinking: he’s awfully chipper for a boy who neglected to put on his uniform that morning. I knew I’d run into children that I wouldn’t have a gift for. So, thankfully I had a large roll of stickers and apparently this was my first customer. I handed him one. His smile got even bigger and he proudly stuck it to the middle of his forehead. 

     We met the school’s administrator; who was gracious, stunning, and professional. As we handed her our list of hopefuls, it was clear by the look in her eyes that she too had no idea that we were coming. Before she got to work on collecting 12 specific children out of hundreds, she led us to an empty classroom where we could sit and wait. As we followed her, I realized that the news of the “sticker lady” had clearly gotten out. A group of children circled around me and were all pointing to their foreheads. As I held tightly onto my 5 sets of gifts, I managed to peel off stickers and say the words “God Bless You” as I carefully attached one to each child’s forehead. (Unlike in America, stickers are a true luxury for these kids and the reason they wear them on their forehead is so that all will see that they are loved.)

As we walked into the classroom (which was 4 cement walls, a roof, and more dirt) the administrator instructed the mob of children circled around me that recess was over and to go back to their classes. They quickly obeyed and all dispersed, leaving only The Red Shirt Boy at my side. He smiled, put his finger to his head and said, “1 more”.  How could I refuse. 

As I approached our waiting room I noticed my new friend was still following me. I bent down and held out another sticker. This time, I put it on the tip of his finger and said “This one’s to share, go find a friend who doesn’t have one.”  With that, I turned away and entered the room. 

There were 4 wooden benches positioned into a square for my teammates and I to sit and wait on.

Our list of hopefuls began to arrive one by one. The administrator would sweetly introduce them to us and once the child looked comfortable, she’d leave to go and get another. All of the kids were so well mannered and naturally pretty shy. Most kids in the sponsorship program never get to meet their Sponsored Parents… and until 5 minutes ago, none of these kids even knew we were coming.

 I met the 3 girls I brought gifts and letters for first and even though I was not their actual sponsor mom, they were very happy to see me. They posed for pictures and when asked, recorded messages for their sponsor families back in America. This whole time The Red Shirt Boy is sitting on the bench intently watching  and nobody seems to know he exists, but me. 

     I asked if he had just started school this year when I became his sponsor. He quietly communicated to me that he had a sponsor before, but for some reason they stopped sponsoring him. Due to the fact that he was doing so well in school, the ARM program allowed him to stay, in hopes that another family would come forward and provide support.  I had thought it was odd that he already had a uniform shirt on in his picture on the sponsored card. (At the time it made me wonder if kids had multiple sponsors) But now it all made sense. Having already been left by one sponsor I could only imagine how he must be feeling. He was probably nervous that I wouldn’t like him or that he might say the wrong things. Bless his heart. We talked about his family (2 brothers and 2 sisters) Ronald told me that he enjoys teaching them what he learns at school. We took some pictures together and I even let The Boy in the Red Shirt get in on our fun. 

  Suddenly it hit me!  He’s wearing a red shirt because he doesn’t go to this school. That’s why no one is looking for him. I knelt down and looked him in the eyes, “Do you have a sponsor?”, I asked. He no longer could look at me as he shook his head – No. He most likely thought he’d been caught and would now be asked to leave. Without hesitation I asked, “Would you like me to sponsor you, so you can go to school?” He took my hand and humbly whispered, “Thank you”.  I had brought a small teddy bear (as an extra) to give to one of the 5 I had come to visit. But I realized then that the bear was intended for him. He had been eyeing it throughout my visit – but never touched it or asked about it. I gently pushed the bear into his chest and said, “This is for you.”  Again, a whispered “thank you”. 

      When the administrator returned I inquired about him. She said she was so busy locating the proper children that she hadn’t even realized he was with us in the room this whole time. He lives in the area and is being raised by his grandfather. Because of his situation and sweet spirit, she has developed a soft spot for him. He doesn’t attend the school, but often visits at recess to be around other kids. She said that his grandfather would be so happy and that I would really bless this family by sponsoring him. I informed her that I was the one who was blessed. For I did not choose him, but he chose me. 

     Cheryl, a volunteer from ARM, was accompanying us and was a little concerned that I had already told the boy I would sponsor him. She said sometimes people feel that way when they are here, but then go home and change their minds. Children are left devastated and feeling rejected. I assured her this would not be the case with me. 

     The Administrator wrote down the information I needed and told me he is 6 years old and his name is Arafat. I had heard that 85% of Ugandans consider themselves Christian, 10%  Muslim and the other 5% practice cults such as witchcraft. Well, apparently his legal guardian would feel blessed if he went to this Christian school. So if he is Muslim he’s about to meet Jesus in a whole new way. Cheryl knew this was not the proper protocol, as there is a long list of children already waiting for sponsors. Never-the-less, she could not deny the divine circumstances. She removed all 3 stickers from Arafat’s forehead and placed them on his shirt, in order to send an identification photo back to ARM headquarters.

     The rain is now coming down in buckets and the team is trying to all pile back into the jeep. The administrator is going to accompany us up to the preschool where the remaining 4 of the 12 children are waiting for us. As I look up from my spot in the back of the jeep I see Arafat clutching his bear and crying loudly. This is rare in Ugandan children. In fact I think that was one of the biggest differences I saw. They just don’t wear their emotions like most Americans do. The Administrator said, “He is crying because you are leaving”. My heart sank. All I could think to do was pass up another sticker to Cheryl who was sitting by the window. She rolled it down and as the rain beat in she stretched out her arm to Arafat and said, “This is from Mama Kim”. He quickly took the sticker and added it to his well displayed collection. Unfortunately, the crying continued.

Our driver (who I later learned was Cheryl’s sponsored child for the last 7 years and is now going to University) gave Arafat a Ugandan coin in exchange for a smile. Arafat complied. We drove away and I couldn’t help but praise God for giving me “Immeasurably more than I asked or imagined”.

Update:

Shortly after my divorce, I decided to go back to Africa with one of my girlfriends and visit my 2 sponsored children. Ronald was now in High School and Arafat was starting Middle School. It was during their Summer Break, so I was able to reconnect with the Administrator who personally took me to their humble homes. Ronald’s parents were so grateful, that they took their only only decor off their wall and insisted I accept it as a gift from them. Arafat wouldn’t let go of my hand and kept asking, “When are you coming back?” Once again: Immeasurably more than I could ask or imagine!